The Words Between
by DragonWarden
Summary: Plots abound, but one in particular seeths far too close for the comfort of those sworn to the Queen's defense. And just as it seems they have found the key to containing it, the man is killed...and his killer is Chosen on the very night of the slaying.
1. The Words Between: part 1

Urgh, reposted because when I had a little more sleep and looked it over today, I noticed an embarrassing number of mistakes throughout the chapter. Second part should be coming within a day or two; thank you ever so much, those who left reviews. It's wonderful encouragement.

Hola. Two notes; one, I don't remember how many beats a trot uses anymore. Forgive me; it's been quite a few years since my horse-craze days. Two, I don't remember what units of time/measurement the world of Valdemar uses, so I apologize in advance for any confusion concerning that until I can find some books and skim them for usage. Oh, I lied. One more note: some of the characters are mine, but most of the concepts, world, etc are actually Mercedes Lackey's.

The Words Between - part 1

He held his breath, eyes narrowed in the dim hallway, waiting and watching as he sifted through the house's noises for anything that might indicate danger to himself or his assignment. When he had counted fully to thirty with nothing presenting itself as worthy of waiting for another night, he released the rest of his breath slowly and eased his way down the side of the corridor, wary of creaking floorboards. Not that they would have been tolerated for long in a rich and well-run household like this, but one should never leave to chance that this might be the first time that a panel decided to give way with a note of complaint.

He had watched the merchant Sovnessan and his household for the better part of a fortnight. The thin, sallow-faced man was well known in guild circles, and while not well liked, he also had few grudges held against him. He was a careful, shrewd tradesman, had a keen nose for where business was to be had, was openly acknowledged as one of the higher ranking members of the merchant guild, and was over fond of onions. He had little to do with the actual running of his estate, the mundane matters being left in his steward's too capable hands, and while the rotund man with the florid nose of an aspiring drunkard put more on the house's accounts than he should have, Sovnessan seemed not to mind. The estate wasn't accruing prohibitive debts, the steward carefully touched nothing but those accounts allotted him in his work's capacity, and the merchant found few issues that needed his personal attention after returning home late at night, looking for only dinner, mulled wine before the fireplace, and bed. All in all, Sovnessan was a remarkably mild parasite, keeping his shadier dealings to a minimum, almost hardly worth noting in the grander scheme of games that the rich and mighty played in the capital of Valdemar. Yet somehow, Sovnessan had managed to upset someone, very badly...for Kyn had been sent to kill the merchant.

Kyn did not dwell on the possible motives behind his assignment as he slid noiselessly past one, two, three doorways to pause at a fourth. There was nothing he needed to know beyond the purvew of his mission, whatever it may be; in this particular instance, who the target was, how long he had in which to do the job, and what methods were the most desirable. There was nothing he was _supposed_ to know beyond that. His master had drilled that concept into him long before he had ever been allowed outside the manse.

Soft sounds of breathing, not quite rising to the level of snores, leaked through some of the doors he passed. Maidservants, and two nieces who had been sent by Sovnessan's sister-in-law to be exposed to culture in the capital. The rest of the staff were housed in the lower floors. He had slipped in through a window left open to what was left of the fall breezes, one of the maids in the habit of stealthily nudging it open a crack to relieve the lingering heat - and the oppressive scent - despite express instructions to latch all windows and doors by nightfall, closing it again before the master of the house rose in the morning. Even if he had not carefully noted the position of the merchant's room from the outside and known exactly how many steps on the inside it would take to reach it, he would have known from the thick perfume of burnt herbs and incense that seeped from it, permeating nearly the entire floor. It had been a relatively simple matter to gain the third story entrance left unwittingly by the maid, the house being built right next to an older, more dated building that had more accessible routes up its facade, and only the original commissioner of the work knew why the two were set but eight feet apart and yet had nothing but empty air to connect them. Both were owned by Sovnessan, as well as the park-like garden that surrounded them. Sovnessan only visited this house, and then only to sup and sleep.

A small bladder of oil insured a quiet entry as he eased the door open, slipping inside as quickly as possible and closing it again behind him to insure that no change in lighting, no matter how subtle, would waken the merchant. There was a stirring in the thin blankets, a hand raising itself to sprawl across the edge of the pillow. Then stillness.

It was only a matter of five steps to cross the room, placing him at the merchant's bedside, a twist of hand and wrist to drop the slender knife from its sheath around his wrist into his hand. Then, waiting, patiently, barely stirring to breath through his mouth for fear that the miasma of lingering odors would tickle his nose into a sneeze, until Sovnessan mumbled something in his sleep and shifted again. Then again, before finally settling flat on his back, mouth falling open slightly, gray-brown wisps of hair arranging itself in a worn halo about his balding head. Leaving his neck perfectly exposed.

Knife sliced through flesh with almost frightening ease, just a little tug to indicate it had passed through anything at all. But even as the merchant's dying gurgle reached Kyn's ears, indicating another mission completed successfully, the realization that he had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life washed through him like freezing water. The premonition was so strong, so overwhelming, that he didn't even dodge the gout of blood that inevitably sprayed from the man's severed vessels, stood there staring dumbly as if he were still an un-blooded trainee, brought back to himself only with the feeling of warm liquid striking his arm and flecking his cheek. Flinching as if he were the one that had been dealt the deathblow, he sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his heart jump as it might have after a mile's run. 

He shouldn't have finished this tonight. Instincts that had never led him wrong told him that, though they had found a most inconvenient time to be tardy. Cursing roundly inside his head, he didn't bother wiping the blood off, something edging far too close to panic for his comfort pushing him to flee as quickly as he can, consequences be damned. He would be punished later for his sloppiness. But punishment was preferable to whatever it was he felt - could almost literally _see_ - looming on the horizon.

Reversing the slender knife, he peremptorily slipped it back in its sheath, an idle corner of his mind tallying another black mark against him for returning a soiled weapon to its home, uncleaned. It would just have to wait like everything else, though. His first priority was to get out of the house, preferably off the estate altogether, before he began worrying about appearances and caring for his tools of trade.

Slipping back out of the window, he crouched on its sill and raked the nearby casements and alleys with his eyes before leaping up and out, barely catching the roof's edge of the next building. Hauling himself up by brute strength, he trotted across the flat top, reflexively bent over, toward the line of faux-balconies that punctuated each floor down to the ground. The small protrusions were vaguely egg-shaped with the upper half missing, carved from a plain white stone, but decorated with enough bas-relief to more than make up for their lack in color. Large enough to hold a person comfortably, they were filled with earth, and had thick masses of exotic vegetation spilling out. Their beauty was wasted on him, though, as he used them as giant steps, hanging from the lip of one and barely assuring that his feet were aimed at the edge of another before letting go. Even were he not in a hurry to be out of the area, he would not have paused for the delicate creations of pastel pink and purple scattered amongst froths of jadeite ferns. He simply wasn't interested.

A spark of discomfort shot up his left ankle as he landed on the gravel-paved path circumscribing the houses. Grimacing at his carelessness, he carefully tested its flexibility as he watched for any movements nearby, finally darting for the estate's nearest wall when he was satisfied that nobody was around.

The wall was scaled and left behind without event. The streets were deserted but for a few far-flung pedestrians and lamp-tenders. The alcove formed by an after-thought of a servant's shack abutting a manse proved just as perfect as he had hoped as a momentary shelter in which to pause and catch his breath. As he leaned tremblingly against the dressed stones of the manse's wall, he blinked and wiped absently at the stickiness along his jawline, wondering if, for once, he had imagined the impending danger. He was loath to discount an instinct that had proven so useful and infallible in the past, no matter how late it was, but he had no evidence to base his hunches on either. And things were going so well...there had been few assignments where circumstances had fallen into place so smoothly, in spite of his own bungling...

Forcibly calming himself, he waited until his heartbeat was only slightly more elevated than usual before taking a deep breath and stepping out of his temporary hiding place. Taking one last swipe at his cheek, he hid his streaked hands in his pockets, straightened his back, and proceeded to stroll for the main street toward the city's border, trusting to his dark, patchy clothes to hide the rest of the half-dried stains. 

Only to stop as he found himself face-to-face with a horse.

It was almost enough to make him jump, the spookiness of it. He had not heard its approach, and he was quite sure that he had been the only sentient thing in sight when he had entered the alcove. Yet there the horse stood, placidly switching its silvery tail back and forth across its rump, head half-lowered so that they were nearly eye-to-eye. Pure white, he admired it with the clinical eye of one used to measuring horseflesh for the work or money that can be gotten from it rather than the beauty. Clean lines, not too slender, not too bulky, with the deep barrel and long cannons that promised the breath for stamina and the stride for fleetness. A dozen other minute details made its way into his assessment, all garnered within a second's examination. The estimate came out to a hefty sum, but the exercise was academic only as he moved to step around the horse, intent on hurrying on his way.

With a soft whuffle, the horse shifted to block him.

Frowning, he wasted a moment wondering if the animal had actually done it intentionally before he shifted to slip past the other way.

The horse moved to block him yet again, its chuff this time sounding disturbingly like a chuckle.

The chill of disaster crept into his extremities once again as he stared at the creature, wondering if there had been something other than incense that was burned in the merchant's room, and if he wasn't still there yet, drooling and dreaming in a corner. If nothing else, the animal should have shied away from the smell of blood, and yet it continued to stand there calmly, turning its head slightly this way and that, for all the world as if...as if...it were trying to catch his eyes...

His head snapped away and up when there came the sound of hoofbeats clopping down the paved streets, moving unmistakably closer. No faster than a trot, but who would be out at this time of the night in a hurry enough to saddle a horse and move it past a walk, but not enough to disturb the entire neighborhood with an all out gallop? Except...except...one, two, three, more were being nudged from the two-beat gait of a trot to the three-beat one of a full gallop. Hissing to himself in annoyance for becoming distracted, he slipped a hand out to shove the horse's nose away to push past it.

Snorting, ears flattened, the horse danced aside - and then snapped at him with large, white teeth that could sheer through inch-thick stalks of vegetation. Almost before he realized what had happened, the animal had fastened its incisors on the excess folds of cloth at his shoulder - with remarkable aim and delicacy, considering that he made sure his attire had little that could catch on stray corners or hooks - and given him a good shake.

Teeth rattling, he squinted at the infernal beast, ears filled with the fast approaching hoofbeats and the one, short command that had been given out in a most guard-like tone, only half an estate away now from the volume. His own teeth bared in a snarl, he jerked sharply enough to tear away, leaving a streamer of dark-dyed linen in the horse's mouth, punctuating the movement with a fist flung toward the delicate muzzle in a last hope to drive it away. As the horse dodged nimbly aside, he looked up to watch its ears, gauging its mood, and then to its eyes, to see if he had finally managed to panic it enough that it would consider desisting in its games.

When he fell into depthless pools of sapphire, he knew with a sinking heart that he had made an even bigger mistake than when he had decided to take the merchant's life on this night.

:My name is Sianni,: an ageless voice crooned to his soul. _:I Choose you, Kyn.:_

Caught with his feet rooted to the spot, mouth half agape, he was only vaguely aware of the voices rising as the guard saw him and the utterly impossible horse with the gemstone eyes. Almost, almost, he could have wept, though what emotion or fact prompted it, he couldn't have said, caught in Sianni's young-old gaze. The only thing he was sure of by then was that he had failed completely and utterly, in absolutely everything.

Everything but one, perhaps.

The first flicker of movement in the corner of his vision broke him out of his trance. Giving himself no time to dwell on his actions, giving himself no chance for hesitation, he dropped the knife into his palm, the blood still damp enough that the weapon had not stuck in its sheath. Closing his eyes against the cerulean ocean that threatened to swallow him whole, he tilted his head back and brought the knife up - 

There was an almost terrifyingly human scream, the only warning he received before something struck his knife hand with a sickening _snap_. The limb went almost instantly numb, up to the elbow, and he was distantly aware of the weapon dropping with a soft thump to the grass, almost drowned out by the louder sound of a several hundred pound animal dropping back to all four hooves, tearing at the turf with an agitated snort. Blinking his eyes open, he was only beginning to realize that the horse had struck at the knife in his now-broken hand before he could slit his throat, missing his head by mere inches, when a gruff voice interjected from behind him, "All right, calm down, th'both of y's...boy, we can talk this out first, no need t'take such drastic measures..."

Instinct made him throw an elbow back. Training followed it up with a half-turn and a punch with the undamaged hand. There was a satisfying _oof_ as the man was caught off-guard with his first strike, but when he turned, he glimpsed the uncharacteristic white uniform that the man was clad in, realized belatedly upon recognition that he was well and truly finished now, and let the punch waver enough to merely graze the man's cheek when the Herald dodged desperately and tackled him. A good strategy, in normal situations, bulling forward and overwhelming a smaller opponent for the moment to recatch one's breath and balance. As they sprawled across the grass and the Companion danced away, snorting in worry, it became an even better strategy than usual as the broken hand glanced across the Herald's shoulder, leaving a streak of rusty-red on the pristine white and bringing tears of pain to Kyn's eyes. Blinking them clear as best he could, he set his jaw, reaching for the Herald's own belt with his good hand, searching for the knife - any knife, even if it were just an eating one - that must surely be there...

"Only one way there is to secure this one right now," a new, gravelly voice suddenly interjected. He barely had enough time to tilt his head back, to see a dark figure crouched over them both, silhouetted by a nearby streetlamp, heard the beginnings of a protest from the one pinning him just as his fingers grasped the worn, bound hilt of a dagger at the man's waist...and then knew nothing more as the newcomer brought a pommel down sharply against his temple.


	2. The Words Between: part 2

Once again, thank you very much to those who have taken the time to put in a review. I would have been amazed to receive just one or two, with only a single chapter out so far. =) But here's the promised part 2; unfortunately, part 3 doesn't seem to be coming along as smoothly, so no estimates as to when that'll be out yet.

The Words Between - part 2

:You should eat, Kyn. At least drink some water; it will help relieve your headache.:

He tried to ignore the voice as he had for the last four candlemarks since he had woken, maintaining his vigil in the corner of the cell, staring blankly at the barred square of light set in the upper half of the handle-less door. But it badgered at him ceaselessly, worming its way into his mind, until he could barely sort out what were his own thoughts and what originated from outside his skull.

:The healers can take care of your hand, but you have to keep up your strength...Healing will require energy that you must provide, and I know you barely eat or drink before any of your assignments...:

He shuddered, fought not to huddle around the cold knot of fear that wound tight in the middle of his gut. _Stop!_ he thought fiercely to himself, hoping that wherever the voice really was, it would hear him. He couldn't stand how much that voice knew, couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he had no defenses against it, and now he sought to distract it - and himself - as he continued flatly, _It would be a waste of time and resources._

There was a thoughtful pause, and the voice continued, even more gently if possible, _:It would not be. They will not execute you. I would not permit it, even if they were so inclined. Eat, Kyn, there is no sense in your trying to starve yourself to death.:_

The end result would be the same. And in a far more pleasant manner. I will be dead within four nights, by my own hand or otherwise, and I would much rather die of thirst or starvation than to die in the other way fashioned for me.

Unease that wasn't his floated at the peripheries of his mind, and he could almost imagine little ghostly will o' wisps darting about the edges of his vision, hurried and aimless. _:I don't understand why you think that, Kyn. Please, all I wish to do is help you, and I would never let anything hurt you if it were in my power to prevent it. I _Chose_ you, and that will never change. Let me know what you think will happen, so that I can help...:_

Leave me my_ choice then!_ he returned forcefully, startling the voice into temporary silence. _Let _me _choose the way in which to end this!_

He was finally alone with his own thoughts, however briefly. Though he desperately needed to explore this new development while he had the chance for uninterrupted examination, he was afraid to stretch toward that peculiar portion of his thoughts where things tended to slide into something - someone - else's feelings and words. So he kept himself neatly focused on the occasional flicker in the light hanging just out of sight, on the scent of a cooling meal left on a tray just inside the door, on the rough texture of the stone biting into his back, in the steady ache in his broken hand, throbbing to each beat of his heart.

The voice had apologized profusely for the last, when he was finally able to gather enough of his wits to realize where he was. Had explained that it was an accident, that panic at losing him (preposterous as that assertion had been, he had openly scoffed though the voice continued vehemently in the same vein) had made it - her - try to stop him in the only manner she knew how. She had struck harder than she would have intended, if she had had a cooler head about her.

He squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing, and laid his aching head back against the blessedly chill stone. Her. She. It. Even in his own thoughts, he vacillated between the pronouns, caught between addressing the voice by what he knew it to be, and keeping it at a safe, anonymous distance. It was so tempting, too tempting, to let it wiggle its way in, take up residence and become a familiar and permanent addition...

:I am nothing that you will ever need fear, Chosen.:

He sighed wearily, mouth twisting in annoyance. _No,_ he agreed shortly. _I would kill you for your incessant nattering before I did so out of fear._

He sensed a moment of shocked hurt, before understanding flowed through the indefinable link that had been established between them and amusement - _ amusement_, of all things! - followed. Finally, the silence he had sought for, this time with the distinct feeling of 'turning away' that seemed to indicate Sianni's attention was fully elsewhere. Grinding his teeth, he tried to let the tension drain from his shoulders, seeking a slightly more comfortable position on the straw-stuffed pallet.

The understanding had unnerved him almost more than the 'knowing' itself. Bad enough someone knew his life almost better than he did. Even worse to have someone who could grasp his motivations, who could possibly predict his actions. It was an intolerable vulnerability, and he composed himself, about to begin the laborious process of exploring this new backdoor into his mind, to analyze and construct a defense against it...before he remembered where he was. What had happened. What was _going_ to happen. 

He was going to die...and all that he would do now would be wasted effort.

He was still in the same position, back and neck stiff with realization that there was absolutely nothing more for him to do in this life, when footsteps drew close, stopping before his door. Three people, one far more adept in the concealment of their steps than the other two, all arriving just outside his cell. He didn't bother lifting his head as the door was unlocked and swung open.

Two men in the garb of the city guard stood on either side of another, the one that walked with the habitual grace and quiet of one who expected danger at any given moment, from any quarter. Garbed in harsh gray, straight and slim and deadly, Kyn felt a brief flicker of curiosity at the Herald-like uniform with its un-Herald-like hue before it was subsumed by resignation. As he felt the others' regards on him, he shifted to relieve the pressure on one leg when it began to fall asleep.

"That's him," the guard on the left finally said uncomfortably into the silence. "They say you're to just take 'im now?" The guard's voice was thick with incredulity. Kyn had to wonder if it was for the un-Herald's ability to handle the prisoner, or for releasing a murderer with the blood still drying on him in the same night of his incarceration. Kyn rather suspected the latter; no matter the perceived threat from his accomplishments. There would seem to be little contest in a struggle between the un-Herald and a small youth barely old enough to grow a full beard.

"Just that," the un-Herald echoed flatly, and with those words confirmed that his voice belonged to the one that had knocked Kyn out. A curt motion of his head alluded to the corridor that led, presumably, to the gaol's only exit, but Kyn didn't move at first, watching the man warily for any clues as to his motives.

_:Trust Alberich.:_

_I don't need your opinions,_ Kyn returned snippily as he rose to his feet, bracing his hand against the wall against the sudden tilt of the world in his aching head. Not even wondering what the un-Herald intended with an unbound murderer, he walked carefully for the door, past the stoic man and between the two guards - ignoring the reflexive movements of hands toward sword-hilts - and continued on down the hall as indicated. Behind him, he heard the three sets of feet falling into step, flanking him. Left unspoken was the threat that they were all ready to cut him down if he did anything even remotely hinting at potential escape or attack.

There were two others waiting in the guardsroom, in more traditional Whites. One was the Herald that Kyn had struggled briefly with; middle-aged, straw-haired and freckled, candid blue eyes that somehow managed to look guileless and wary at the same time. The man flinched as he focused on Kyn when they emerged from the shadowed interior of the gaol. _At the merchant's blood, or the person that performed the act that spilled it?_

_:Neither.:_

He managed to cut off the rest of Sianni's words somehow through a desperate act of _pushing_, a curious non-sensation of shoving away a thought and then letting a wall of silence fall between them by completely ignoring that particular corner of his consciousness. Satisfied at last that he had found at least a temporary solution to her roaming unfettered through his mind, he turned his attention to the last Herald as Alberich and the guards filed in. Petite. Female. She had reddish-brown hair streaked with gray that had just enough curl in it to make it kink interestingly from the rough bun it was piled into at the back of her head. Gray eyes settled on him briefly with a mix of emotions that he couldn't interpret, and then they slid past him to the un-Herald. "Are we ready, then?" she asked.

Kyn more sensed than saw Alberich's glance toward the guards, heard their uneasy shuffle before one of them gave a grunt of assent and handed something over. "Was the only thing we found on 'im," the guard muttered, which meant the knife that Kyn had used to kill the merchant.

The un-Herald didn't bother replying, tucking the weapon away somewhere before he strode into Kyn's line of vision. Sensing the man's regard, he finally lifted his head, face emotionless, meeting the waiting, expectant gaze. "To the Collegium we are going now. No foolishness will you contemplate along the way." Absolute command there, as if Alberich would control Kyn's thoughts as fully as he would handle him physically.

Kyn did not bother scoffing or protesting as he was led out into the night.

Sianni waited at the gaol's entrance, along with three other Companions. Though the others were tacked in ice-blue trappings, she bore nothing but a plain leather saddle and hackamore. When they emerged, she whickered softly in greeting, venturing to nose him affectionately. Kyn shrank back from her motion with a soft hiss and a glare, and though she stopped just short of touching him, she looked undeterred as she waited patiently for him to mount.

"How can he...hurts to refuse a..." the sand-haired Herald murmured to the woman as they mounted. Kyn caught even less of the reply as, under Alberich's watchful gaze, he clambered his way up onto Sianni's back, hunched over until his vision cleared and the illusory teeth gnawing at his hand from when he forgot and tried to use it relented somewhat.

Thankfully, Sianni left him alone on the way toward the collegium's grounds, seemingly content in merely being in contact with him. Swinging wildly between complete apathy and a trapped animal's unreasoning panic, he didn't think he would have been able to handle a voice talking back to him in his own head for much longer without something breaking, either his sanity or more of his bones when Alberich would have been forced to subdue him. 

He didn't know whether he should care or not that Heralds had somehow managed to obtain permission to move a killer from the city gaols. Or that the guards had handed him over with little more than a token grumble. 

The Companions made little or no sound as they ghosted through the streets, and it was no wonder now that Sianni had been able to sneak up on him. Of course, then it begged the question of how the city guards had become involved, for it was surely their mounts that he had heard racketing toward the merchant's estate. And though it were the Heralds that had happened on him first, it were the guards that had held him until he had awakened. _ Enough,_ he growled to himself in frustration. There was no use in the paths his thoughts meandered down now.

_:We knew something was going to happen, but not _what_,: _Sianni interjected herself helpfully. _:It seemed prudent to request for as much help as possible, and they happened to be near at hand.:_ There seemed to be a faint note of annoyance and regret that flavored her words though, but he didn't have a fine enough grasp yet to sort it out. If he were inclined to expend the effort to do so at all. Pointedly ignoring her, he stared blankly ahead, letting the others determine their course - not that he even imagined Sianni would heed any cues from him anyway concerning their destination - and barely even noticed as they passed the last row of houses and then through the innermost wall guarding palace and collegia.

Trees. Grass. A small stream, and the looming sides of various buildings. In the moonlight, everything acquired a flat, colorless, silvery cast that he had no trouble making out details in. Habit made him note the distance and direction that they traveled, but fatalism kept him from pondering possible escape routes. Eventually, their goal became clear in the shape of a long, wood-built shelter just inside the boundaries of a huge, fenced sward. As the Companions filed one by one through a gate, he cradled his aching hand a little closer to himself, unable to keep the tension from worming its way into his muscles no matter how many times he told himself whatever happened didn't matter. 

One side of the shelter was lined with what looked like half-completed stalls, all door-less, all maintained with meticulous care, lined by piles of clean straw with mangers filled by water, oats, clover, and other equine delicacies. But the majority of the wooden building was devoted to tack and the tools that cared for horses and their accoutrements, as well as a closed door or two behind which, presumably, the rooms were either being used as living quarters or storage space. The Companions walked up to the section of the wall lined by hackamores in varying styles and conditions in unspoken accord, stopping to let their riders off. Kyn followed the Heralds' actions without protest, sliding off gingerly and letting his aching forehead rest briefly against the worn leather of the saddle. Sianni's velvety nose nudged his elbow before he even noticed through the numbing fog filling his brain that she had moved, and he belatedly flinched before pushing resolutely away, composing his face into a grim mask and refusing to look at her.

The straw-haired Herald sighed as he stowed his Companion's gear in their respective places, dragging a hand through his ragged locks as he eyed Kyn appraisingly when he was done. "Well, now that we have him, what're we going t'do with him?"

"First things first. That hand needs looking at," the woman said smartly, walking forward and reaching out.

Kyn stepped back sharply, hiding his start as he unexpectedly thumped into the wooden siding of a stall, and curled his good hand into a fist. He tried to console himself that it did not matter that his attention had lapsed so badly, he hadn't memorized the placement of things in his immediate area on sight. Such training would be useless to him in a bare handful of days. "Don't bother," he informed coldly.

The woman arched one thin eyebrow, apparently unimpressed by his bravado.

"Convinced he is that in four days' time, dead he will be," the un-Herald mentioned in an off-hand tone, replacing the last of his Companion and Sianni's tack. Kyn's lips tightened as he sent a flat glare toward Sianni for letting that information slip.

"Dead of what? Does this mean the watch we put on him should be for a potential suicide, rather than escape?" the woman asked with brisk, business-like efficiency, eyes steady on him throughout the conversation. "You should know by now, boy, that we have no intention of executing you."

"Yet," the third Herald added sourly, rubbing the spot in his midriff where Kyn's elbow had connected. Sobering, he continued, "Chosen or not, remember what he did tonight. And what else he might have done."

Kyn offered no opinions of his own, merely maintained the same flat, unfeeling expression he had adopted after the one lapse in admonishing Sianni.

"The last major lead, this lad has done with tonight," Alberich noted darkly, positioning himself within reach of Kyn. "The last lead we have _he_ is now."

The woman frowned. "I suppose, with Sovnessan dead, there's little use in our floundering about blindly. We're dead in the waters for at least a week before a breeze will even begin to sniff around us. But still, I would like to have him Truth-Spelled tonight. There's no point in putting off what we can shell- "

There was a reproachful snort as Sianni finally interrupted, interposing herself between Kyn and the two white-uniformed Heralds, nearly blocking him from sight completely with her bulk. Alberich, who stood impassively on the other side, received a limpid blue-eyed stare, to which he responded with a shrug and an obliging step back, out of Kyn's personal space.

_:Kyn needs to see a Healer, and he must be convinced to take sustenance. There is also the matter of his protection to be arranged - :_

"His protection?" the straw-haired Herald spluttered, glancing toward his Companion as if the information had been relayed, and the equine-like being merely flicked an ear lazily in the equivalent of a shrug. "He seemed t'know how t'defend himself well enough tonight," the Herald continued carefully, warning in the look he cast Sianni's way. "T'the detriment of a particular merchant, might I add."

_:His protection,:_ Sianni continued, undaunted. _:He won't tell me what the perceived danger is, but it is most certainly external in nature.:_

_You mean there's something you haven't managed to pry out of my head yet?_ he thought acidly toward her.

Sianni swung her head around to pin him with a too-blue eye. _:Understand, Chosen, that everything I have learned from you so far has been given to me. Perhaps unwittingly, but I have not and will never 'pry' in your head without permission.:_

_And does that generosity extend to keeping _them_ from prying into my head as well?_ he sneered back at her.

She blinked, dipped her head sadly as a sigh ghosted through his mind, and turned back to the Heralds to address something that had been asked in the meantime. But not before she added wistfully, _:I love you, Chosen. I wish you could understand that I would do everything possible to insure your well being.: _

He stared at her, letting the rest of the exchange flow around him without heed. 

The dry husk of a wheat germ had somehow found its way into Sianni's mane, a bronze accent in the moonlit strands. The fingers of his good hand twitched, and he absently reached out to comb it from the silky locks.

Love? What did a horse know about love?

_For that matter,_ his own voice added snidely, _what do _you_?_


	3. The Words Between: part 3

Ok, I think I've just about written every other chapter in the fic but this one in the last few days. o.O* Talk about needing to focus. But I still managed to get it out of my system in the end, so hopefully it was worth the wait. =)

The Words Between - part 3

Kyn flexed his hand carefully, watching the play of tendons across the back, the only indication that anything had happened a lingering stiffness and the spectacular bruising. The young woman in healers' greens had informed him brusquely that the bruising would fade on its own in a week or so, and that he should use the hand sparingly as the bones were still fragile along the newly-mended breaks. With stray wisps of frizzy hair curling about her face and neck, she had fought a constant battle with the veritable mane during the examination despite the thick braid she had tried to confine it to.

His head had been looked to as well, and now the only thing wrong with it was a false giddiness from hunger and Sianni's persistent voice. A few hours of practice, though, gave him a passable solution to Sianni's constant presence, one that would tie him over the next few days without requiring his constant attention, such as it had while he was in the gaol. There had been the slightest tickle of desperate worry from the Companion just before he cut her off completely. He refused to acknowledge it, to either her or himself.

After settling that it was better to have everyone get a good night's sleep rather than deal with him now, the Heralds had marched him to one of several large buildings scattered across the grounds. The straw-haired Herald had taken his leave at the entrance, and was called "Dheeran" by the woman in the exchange of farewells. Alberich had said nothing at all, merely inclined his head shortly and pushed on, impatient.

Kyn was eventually led to a suite on the third floor, a single door leading into a sitting room of sorts which connected three other rooms on each side. Decorated in neutral grays and blues, the outer room contained the overly comfortable furniture and stiff, dusty atmosphere of a setting not oft used, and then only for formal occasions. Striding ahead, Alberich opened the door directly opposite the one they had entered, and a room bearing just as much personality as the foyer was revealed. 

They had not passed a single soul in the corridors or on the stairs, and though Kyn supposed the late hour would account for that, the building was of a modern and consistent enough design that he didn't think there were many add-ons after the original construction. Which meant that most of the room layouts were the same as this. And unless Valdemarans claimed the habit of renting out rooms like a hostel from buildings adjacent to the palace, he couldn't imagine even half of the suites being occupied on a permanent basis.

Whatever the reason behind the arrangement, it currently served a purpose that Kyn could well understand when the woman Herald paused at the outside door and noted, "If you need anything, just ask."

Alberich drove the point home with a calm and almost indulgent smile that showed too many teeth. "Outside, someone will always be." Meaning, an unofficial guard will be posted in the sitting room on rotating shifts, made into something pleasanter only by the grace of rosy-hued words. Kyn had docilely entered the room, automatically took in the pieces of furniture, their placement, the sparse efforts at decoration, and walked as nonchalantly to the window as possible.

As high as three stories was, especially with this particular building's propensity for non-standard floor plans calling for unusually elevated ceilings, he hadn't thought the Heralds foolish enough to consider height a major obstacle for him. He wasn't disappointed when he pushed the gray-lined, powder blue curtains aside to look down, and spied no less than three ghostly Companions on the portion of the fields surrounding this side of the building, in various states of repose. One, idly nibbling at a tuft of weeds, looked up to meet his eyes, and he drew the curtains back over the window at that point. The Companions would be his watchers from the outside, as Alberich and the woman - and whoever else they enlisted in the effort - would watch from the inside. Somehow, the deserted feel of the place seemed much less coincidental.

The healer had come and gone, churlish from being roused out of bed. Or, one assumed she was out of sorts from the hour. Kyn had the feeling that she made more of an effort to be less abrasive in daylight times - but not by much much. He didn't make the mistake of thinking that her vocation automatically granted her the patience and bedside manner of a saint.

A washbasin and cloth had been provided, and fresh clothes laid out - much like the Heralds', but a gray just a shade lighter than Alberich's. His lips curled as he wondered if the trainee uniform was a hint that his punishment might be mitigated with good behavior now that he had been Chosen, dangling the prize of acceptance before his nose, or if they simply didn't have any other spare clothes in the collegia that wasn't a uniform.

A plate of cheeses and dried fruit had also been unearthed from somewhere, though a mere glance at it was enough to make him swallow thickly and turn away again, feeling vaguely ill. Releasing a deep breath, he paced to the full-length mirror suspended against a clear section of the wall, soaked and wrung out the washcloth, and began to wipe off the flakes of dried blood that clung stubbornly to hands and jaw. The clothes themselves were shed without an attempt at salvaging, exchanged for the dove gray uniform that had been brought for him. The pants were an inch too short, and the shirt too loose.

In the mirror, a slim youth watched him with an emotionless, flat gaze. All sharp angles and bones, he was pale to the point of pallor, the freckles that appeared as suddenly and mysteriously in the sun as mushrooms after a spring shower, now all but invisible. Unruly off-black hair seemed in constant threat of obstructing gray-green eyes, though it never managed to stray past the downward-drawn line of thin, pinched brows. His lips were little more than a bloodless, compressed line as his jaw tightened. Grunting in exasperation, Kyn rolled his shoulders in a vain attempt to loosen them and whirled away from the mirror in the same motion. One should always avoid thinking too much.

Finished with his ablution, though, he found little else to occupy himself with in his enforced stay other than to unlock that place in his mind where the voice named 'Sianni' resided - and he would sooner let Master's work claim him than let her in voluntarily. Pacing from one end of the room to the other, he stared blankly at the wall, nostrils flaring with a sharply exhaled breath.

He could end it all now. Just throw himself out the window, head-first, and make sure he leaped far enough away from the ivy-trailed walls that he wouldn't be able to do anything even if he change his mind halfway down. That's what he _should_ do. Did he really think there was any possibility of him escaping within the next two days? He would need at least a day and a half on foot to reach one of the designated taverns. He could break the mirror...use the shards as makeshift knives on whoever decided to step in the next day...how many more would there be waiting outside, should he dispatch that one? The plans tumbled through his mind like wayward puppies, without direction and falling over each other, making no progress. The hoped for hunches didn't arise either, as they often did in a rich mix of possibilities. If only he could think of more actions; perhaps he would accidentally hit on the correct combination, and his Sight would point it out to him...if it pointed to anything at all but his death in less than a handful of days...

Growling softly to himself, he closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyelids, until he saw phantom starbursts behind them. The point of why Master had told him that time to think in is the bane of his existence was never so well taken as this moment. The only times his body and mind had both been left idle for longer than half a candlemark had been when he was ill or asleep. With no other recourse, though, he moved to the bed and sprawled inelegantly across it, feet hanging over its lower-left edge, head pillowed face-down on his arms, perilously close to the right edge just below the line of pillows. The vague thought that he should blow out the lamps flitted through his head, but for all his nervous energy before, he suddenly couldn't have bestirred himself if he'd wanted to. 

* * *

_"Were you successful?"_

_For a moment, the question puzzled him. There was never any doubt of whether he had been successful or not. If he returned, that meant he had been. He would not be standing here if he had not finished his assignment._

_"Answer me, boy! Were you successful?!"_

_Jaw tightening, he set aside his own questions as reflex had him snapping to attention, reporting swiftly, "Yes, Master."_

_"Better," came the grudging response, a muffled shuffle and wooden _ thunk_ bringing a shadowy figure out farther into the light. "But not good enough. You were...sidetracked."_

_There was no surprise at that pronouncement. Master always knew, always found out. Kyn had long ago given up trying to hide anything from the man. "It was..." He hesitated, trying to find some way to phrase the words to cast himself in the best light, and finally gave up. "It was unavoidable."_

_"Excuses," Master drew out with derisive scorn. Drag-_thunk_. The tip of a well-worn and crudely carved cane was revealed, along with the edge of one rough-sewn boot. "Did you not See it?"_

_Kyn swallowed, focused exclusively on the cane's tip, and responded hoarsely, "Ye - no. No, Master, I did not See it, but...but I_ felt_ it! There was a warning, but it came too late...there was no way I could have avoided the - "_

"Excuses!"_ This time, the word lashed out like a whip-crack, arcing through the air to nearly strike physically upon the ears. Kyn actually shrank back a step before he could stop himself, hands clenching into fists at his own impotence. "Have I taught you nothing? Your Sight isn't just a conveniently accurate daydream, it is your most valuable tool. One that should have prevented this fiasco." Except it hadn't. Kyn took a deep breath, bracing himself. _

_Master was right. The tool might be flawed, but it was a tool that none of his opponents - or victims - wielded. And in the hands of a master, even the most untrustworthy of tools could be made deadly. If he had been good enough - he should have pulled it off without a hitch. "I'm...sorry, Master." The words burned in his throat. To admit that he had erred was an invitation for punishment. But to not admit it when he was obviously in the wrong was to invite corrective measures for his disobedience that were even worse. "Next time, I'll be more careful. There won't be any witnesses..." No unnecessary killings that, committed in haste and without forethought, compounded his chances of being caught or the mission to be otherwise compromised._

_"It is not mere witnesses I am concerned with this time," Master said lazily, almost familiarly as he continued forward at a slow, inexorable pace. Drag-_thunk_. Drag-_thunk_._

_As the shadows reluctantly released the man from their shielding embrace, the shuffling sound was revealed as the drag of a damaged limb across the floor, the right leg stiff and unresponsive. Once fine clothes, in faded peacock trimmed by stained carmine over a decade out of fashion, hung loosely on a twisted and withered frame. The hood of a cloak hid most of the face, revealing only the lips and chin and the shadowy outline of a nose. What could be seen of the right cheek was a horrid mass of scar tissue, melted and pitted, pulling the near corner of the mouth into a ghastly sneer. In macabrely contrast, the opposite cheek was as smooth and clear as a maiden's, sometimes with a hint of dark stubble._

_"Then...what, Master?" Kyn belatedly asked, quickly reviewing all the details of his last assignment, trying to remember what else he might have done wrong. Only...only...he couldn't seem to quite grasp the doings of the latest mission in its entirety. There had been an old maidservant who had wandered in at an inopportune time, looking for her favorite thimble with blue-painted figures cavorting across its ceramic side...no, that had come before the retrieval of the deeds from Castella Manor...but he could remember the arc of bright blood, the scene fresher than any other memory, and there had been no terminations - accidental or otherwise - in the stealing of the papers..._

_Master dragged himself two steps closer, almost relying on the cane more than his one good leg, and leaned close enough that Kyn could smell the herbs and decay wafting from the hood's opening like a demon's breath. "No, I am far more concerned with your capture, this time."_

_"My...My what?" For a moment, Kyn openly gaped at Master, before he paled as realization slowly stole in. Capture...he had been captured by the guard - no, the _Heralds_...but then, what was he doing here? How could Master be here? This shouldn't be happening, this scene was impossible..._

_"Such a waste," Master tsked, rebalancing himself to raise the cane, tilting Kyn's head up with the gnarled knob beneath his chin. "All that effort, all that time spent on you...and now you have not only been neutralized, but you are now a liability."_

_"I...you know I can resist," Kyn whispered, staring wide-eyed into the hood's shadowy interior and unable to look away. Impossible, impossible...his capture, the voice in his head, Master standing _here_...all impossible..._

_"You can. I've made sure of that." The undamaged side of the mouth lifted, one half of a roguish smile that was made all the more horrifying by its fractured mirror coexisting beside it on the same face. "But why take the risk?"_

_A whiff of brimstone...a presence beside him..._

...and as the heavy weight of an impossibly large hand fell on him, knife-sharp claws pricking the tender skin of shoulder and arm, he gasped, choked, and just saved himself from rolling right off the bed and cracking his skull against the low bedstand.

_:Are you al - :_

He cut off Sianni's voice with a ruthless thought, wiping a hand over his face with a shudder. Almost, almost he pulled down the collar of his shirt to check his shoulder, to see if there were pinpricks on the skin, but he wasn't sure he would be able to stand seeing actual evidence of it if there were. Seated on the floor, back against the bed's edge, he leaned his forehead against a propped leg and desperately tried to recoup his wits and his breath.

A dream. Just a dream. Or...or a foretelling? He could almost never tell - he had both so often, that they often ran together into one seamless blur. Small things. Things that were near, or already upon him. If this was a true Seeing...had Master lied to him? Did he not have a full fortnight? Did Master somehow _know_, as he knew so many other things, that this would happen and was already moving to take care of the mistake called Kyn?

He nearly jumped out of his skin a second time as there was a knock on the door, and an unknown male voice asked solicitously if he needed anything. Kyn's mouth twisted at this evidence of Sianni's willing hand - or hoof - in his incarceration, no doubt having alerted the unofficial guards that something was wrong. "No, I don't need anything." In afterthought, he added - though no less stiffly - in an attempt to allay suspicions, "Just more sleep."

There was an affirming grunt from the other side, and then nothing more.

Leaning his head back, Kyn closed his eyes and exhaled noisily. Just the barest hint of pre-dawn light was detectable through the cracks in the curtains. He had a few hours yet, unless the Heralds in charge of him were fanatically early risers by habit, and while he would have laid bets that Alberich - perhaps even the woman - might be able to waken themselves at a moment's notice at any time of the day, even the un-Herald had looked ready for bed by the time Kyn was left alone. It was reasonable to assume that they were in no hurry to interrupt their sleep when the killer was tucked away safe and sound, waiting for his interrogation at their leisure.

Sleep. He should listen to his own lie and attempt some more, despite the only-now slowing beat of his heart and the clammy feel of the sweat on his skin. Pushing himself laboriously to his feet, he looked distastefully at the bed, as if the furniture was itself responsible for his nightmare, and rubbed his palms down the sides of his trousers in an attempt to dry them.

Dry them. He paused, then slowly looked down, hesitantly raising one hand before his eyes. He rarely, rarely ever had anything but dry hands, had been systematically trained out of anxiety attacks where a slippery grip might jeopardize an assignment, though it wasn't to say he was immune to them completely. But nothing could account for the sweat on him now, beyond the nightmare now over. He felt his breath catch as he watched the minute tremble that invaded his muscles, a very noticeable shiver that he couldn't seem to still no matter how he tried. Stifling a growl, he clenched the traitorous hand into a fist, hiding it behind him as his eyes darted around the room, looking for something, anything...

Damn him! Master had lied...it was already beginning. Three...four days ahead of schedule, technically. He tried to think back to all of his farther-flung assignments...but he couldn't recall with certainty a single time when it had taken him longer than eight days to finish and return. He had never tested the true limits of the time-delayed poison...had never needed to. Was this Master's last revenge, or just a particularly nasty reminder of who held his life, should he ever take it into his head to just leave and never return?

_As if I have any other purpose but that which he gives me,_ he thought bitterly to himself, eyes finally resting on the window, and the three story drop beyond it. Could he do it? When faced by the Companion, with the shock of Recognition still numbing his senses...he had the courage to use the knife, then. He knew how to make it fast, and nearly painless; had given many another that same mercy. But to calmly open the window, to stare down that distance, and fling himself out, to feel the wind whistling by his ears and see the ground rushing up to meet him...

Gritting his teeth, he turned away, huddling down beside the bed, hands knotted together and pressed against his bowed forehead, elbows braced on bent knees. How long would it take? The first and last time he had progressed this far had been shortly after Master had taken him in; he couldn't remember much of it except for the frightening swiftness of his body's deterioration, the utter misery he had suffered through before the lesson was learned and ended. Sipping carefully at the air between his teeth, he braced himself as best he could and settled himself to wait for the rest of the symptoms to reveal themselves.

* * *

He was still in the same position when Alberich and the woman Herald from last night finally entered the room near mid-morning. By then, he had to grit his teeth until he thought they would shatter to keep them from chattering.

"Kyn, are you all right?"

He looked up sharply; too sharply. As the un-Herald's face lurched nauseatingly into view, Kyn swallowed and replied as steadily as he could, "I'm afraid we weren't introduced."

Though there was a soft, half-sheepish chuckle from the woman, Alberich's flat expression did not waver, sleet-gray eyes examining him intently and so predictably cataloguing each symptom that Kyn could practically list each clue that the man found: what might be an unnatural pallor, though Havens knew he was already pale enough to begin with from lack of sun; the glittering evidence of a fever's cold sweat, spiking the ends of rough-shorn hair; the occasional shiver that couldn't be quite hidden in muscles locked tight to the point of protesting; eyes with pupils too large, wandering and unfocused.

"I beg your pardon. I am Herald Melidee. This is Weaponsmaster Alberich," the woman introduced, gesturing to herself and the un-Herald, movements sharp, sudden, and graceful as a bird's. "What be yours?"

Games. Kyn was willing to play word games all day long, if that meant staving off the questions. Distracting Alberich's assessing gaze. Keeping his mind off Master's revenge. Leading the Heralds on a merry chase through useless answers that would tell them nothing. "Kyn. I am called Kyn," he said in too measured tones, finally unable to stand looking at the weaponsmaster any longer and turning his gaze to Melidee instead. There was no use at this point in trying to hide his name. "I would invite you to sit, if there were any chairs, and I don't think it would be proper if I invited a lady to rest upon my bed."

The woman's brows shot down in direct contrast to the sentiment of the courtly words, and Kyn cursed himself for adapting a little too well even as he twitched at the first cramp that crawled through his middle. Suspicions well and truly aroused, now, the woman began to make her own assessment, and while she was slower to arrive at the same conclusions as Alberich, she was no doubt suspecting something with the uncharacteristic response. "My, what manners the young one has..." she murmured.

"From his behavior last night, one would never know," Alberich concurred, a speculative gleam in his eyes as he folded his arms across his chest. "The healer perhaps should be called, to assess the health of his mind."

_No need, no need,_ his mind clamored. _Of course I'm not in my right mind. _Havens, it was getting hard to think. "It was late," he began, knowing how ridiculous he sounded after being found with another man's blood on his hands and face, but unable to help himself as he surreptitiously pressed an elbow against another building cramp in his side. "I'm sure...m'lord and lady...that we were all a little out of sorts by then..."

Melidee looked in very real danger of laughing aloud at the surreal suggestion, and Kyn would have quite happily continued making a fool of himself if Alberich didn't look less and less entertained with each word. With a curt gesture of his hand, the man cut the other Herald off and knelt down beside Kyn. The latter blinked twice in an attempt to refocus on the abruptly much-closer man. "Call Nadia. And we Truth-Spell him now."

_Truth-Spell?_ What did that entail? Kyn wasn't too keen on the implications of the name, especially when they involved the weaponsmaster, but he wasn't so far gone yet that he would let himself be taken in so easily. Starting back, away from the un-Herald and having his slide along the bed's side abruptly aborted by the man's fist clenched in the collar of the borrowed shirt, he hissed, "You'll get nothing from me - "

"Continue to delude yourself, please," Alberich said humorlessly, head cocked as he waited for Melidee's response though his eyes never left Kyn's face.

The other Herald never moved a step, much less left the room. But a breath later, she informed soberly, worry creasing her salt-and-pepper brows, "She's on her way. She had to grab her satchel."

"Just herself will be fine," Alberich said darkly, eyes narrowing. Giving Kyn a hard shake, he asked, "Who are you working for?"

The words seemed to slip into his mind with the same sort of 'mental tickle' that Sianni's voice engendered, yet...yet there was something else to it that made Kyn shiver, open his mouth...and to his horror, found himself blurting, "Master."

The weaponsmaster tilted his head, seemed almost impressed for some mad reason that Kyn couldn't fathom right then, and said, "Clever, answering without answering. But the truth you_ will_ tell. What name be your master's?"

Kyn's heart thudded loudly in his ears, nearly drowning out his next word as he found himself repeating, "Master." His hands, one braced against the rug-clothed floor and the other tangled in the sheets hanging over the bed's side, curled in the respective materials, digging into them. What was happening? He had been trained to resist interrogation for weeks, if necessary...and here he was spilling whatever answer the man was looking for! Alberich seemed discontent with what he had been told thus far, though, from which Kyn took little comfort as he covered a particularly sharp pang with a hiccupping gasp for air.

"Wise of the one who hired him," Melidee opined from behind. "He cannot reveal what he doesn't know. Though it seems to be an egotistical lordling that's hired this one, giving the alias of 'Master'."

No more, he can't reveal any more! Though reason said that there was nothing Master could do immediately, and when the poison was finally allowed to run its full course, Master wouldn't be able to do anything ever again - there was no reasoning with fear, and over a decade of indoctrination on top of that. Master would find a way somehow, just as he always knew what had gone wrong...would send one of his demons to fetch Kyn's soul back, to be punished forever...

"Why did you kill Merchant Sovnessan?"

He bit his tongue until he tasted blood, but couldn't help himself as he took a breath to reply, mouth opening...and was saved from saying anything more as a small whimper was wrung from him instead, twisting in Alberich's grasp as something reached inside him and tied his innards into a knot.

"She's on the stairs!" Melidee snapped as Alberich cursed in another language and immediately shifted his grip to hold Kyn still as he convulsed. A calmer, detached portion of Kyn's mind couldn't help admiring their cool professionalism, bypassing shock, surprise, and useless inquiries to deal directly with the situation.

_I don't want to die...I have to die...I don't want to die...I have to..._ The conflicting desires tore at his mind just as the poison tore at his body. Training warred with a shamefully strong instinct for self-preservation, one that he never even suspected of existing, until a real cry was drawn from him at a particularly vicious spasm. Then, then he just wished that it would be over quickly, so that he would tell no more and Master would not be angry enough to retrieve him from the Havens, so that he wouldn't have to _feel_ anymore...

_:Chosen! Stay with us a little longer...Nadia's almost there...:_

Cold comfort, that, and though Kyn tried to reseal the strange, intangible barrier that was usually so effective at blocking Sianni now, a small, traitorous part of him welcomed the touch of her concern.

The door was flung open and the same healer that had attended him before was framed in the opening, her hair and dress in an even wilder disarray than before.

_She'll probably be in an even worse mood now,_ Kyn thought regretfully, shivering one last time before he slowly began to relax. Finally, the pain was ebbing, replaced by an almost warm lassitude that he was more than willing to give in to.

"You're staying with me if I have to drag you kicking and screaming from the Havens themselves," the healer - Nadia - growled as she dropped an herb satchel that clinked with bottles and reached out to frame Kyn's face in hands that felt too hot.

_I was right. _A pause, as she deliberately caught and held his eyes, and he wondered which was worse; being retrieved by a demon, or by the young healer.

_:By me, of course,:_ she said brusquely. _:Now, if you'll please allow me to do my work...:_ And she did something that turned his mind off like a blown-out candle.


	4. The Words Between: part 4

3/30/02 - NEW SECTION ADDED since 3/28/02. It's at the very bottom.

Just a quick reply to those who've reviewed since the first posting of this chapter:

Megan - Thank you for your enthusiasm. =) And I'm glad you're still enjoying it.

Jocelyn Magus - Oooh, my first corrections! rolls up her sleeves I'm assuming you're referring to the line "He simply opened his eyes..." as his 'starting out with them open'. That's more of a hypothetical/rhetorical/what-have-you statement, in the context of the first sentence. So, he doesn't _actually_ have them open right then and there; it was merely referring to past incidents. Hope that was understandable. At least, a little more understandable than the original narration...anyway, I did edit it slightly in the hopes that it would be less confusing. As for the hanging ending, isn't that the goal of any author, to leave the reader looking for more? =P But you're right, I hadn't intended on leaving it _that_ ambiguous. _ That line too, has been added to. (My fingers don't always quite keep up with my thoughts...which's why readers/reviewers have to step in because sometimes I get tired of proofreading - and re-proofreading, and re-proofreading, and re-proofreading et cetera - my own writing.)

Hazel and Rowan - shivers Oooh, you really know how to get someone motivated...but hopefully you won't have to take such drastic measures. =P (Especially considering the fact that I'm weird and caffeine puts me to sleep. I'm sure that's not the effect you're looking for.)

haiiro - blush Afraid I can't think of any response beyond a heartfelt "Thank you."

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3/28/02 - The responses to this story have simply been overwhelming. =) Though, it does make me wonder where the complaints are lurking...I _know_ it's not perfect. =P But don't get me wrong. I sincerely thank all of those who have taken the time to write even a one-line review (*psst* Megan, I'll let you in on a little secret - I log on everyday just to check on the reviews too ^_~). Thank you for continuing to stick with me, and please, if you know of anything definitive I can improve on, let me know and I'll see what I can do.

Oh, and the reviewer listed as "* ()": as flattering as your review is, I think that might get me strung up by Mercedes Lackey's fans. o.O* So, maybe we should keep that sort of comment to a minimum, if I'm to survive long enough to finish this thing... whisper: Though, feel free to spam my e-mail with stuff like that anytime you want. Self-delusion is good for the ego. 

I think, eventually, I'll move it past the first 2 days. _ If that didn't make any sense, don't worry, just ignore me.

* * *

The Words Between - part 4

For Kyn, there was no transition between sleep and wakefulness. He would simply open his eyes, and he would be as alert as he would ever be until he went to sleep again. The only times he had been caught in the strange, murky state of 'waking' had been when he was either ill or injured, and even visions and dreams, though they roamed freely on either side, never crossed the divide itself. It had always been thus, for as long as he could remember.

His entire life was defined in this way; with clear cut rules and lines, imposed either from within or without, as regular and predictable as water flowing downhill and stars staying fixed in the sky. It was the only reassurance he needed - the only one he had - that he would survive another day relatively unscathed if only he performed all rituals accordingly. Routine meant things were predictable. Routine meant he would be able to relax as much as he was ever allowed to, content in the knowledge that he would know how to confront whatever challenge presented itself.

Routine meant he was safe.

Thus it was that when he finally realized his shift to full consciousness was far more sluggish than it should have been, his first thought was to buy himself enough time to assess what had happened to cause the delay. Had he blundered enough that the swordsmaster had lost patience with him again and given him the flat of the sword against the side of the head? There was an unfamiliar ache in his body that was inconsistent with even a hard workout, though his head ached fiercely enough to corroborate the suspicion. Carefully relaxing all muscles, maintaining the same pattern of even, shallow breaths, he constructed the facade of a body still deeply asleep with the calculated ease of long practice. Best to assess who was near, and to ascertain their mood before alerting them that their charge was conscious again. There would be no pity if it had been his own foolish actions that had set him here... 

_:He's awake.:_

Only, he hadn't counted on one extra factor that he had never had to guard against before. Sianni's announcement was enough to startle him into opening his eyes, the last day's - and night's - events suddenly rushing in, chagrin at having forgotten about her battling with the alarm of realizing she had managed to become so familiar to him, such a natural presence in his mind even in the short period they had been acquainted, that he had given himself away almost at the outset. And so his second muddy thought in the unfamiliar, hazy realm of half-sleep, was of fighting and escaping. To put as much distance between himself and the madness that had overtaken his life as possible. 

Two things managed to keep him from jumping straight to his feet and taking the nearest exit that proffered itself: Alberich's hand planting itself in the middle of his chest, and the sudden spasming protest from over-wearied muscles.

Sucking a breath in sharply at the reminder of his less than ideal condition, it wasn't until the healer's coppery brown eyes hove into view that he managed to piece together a third, coherent thought, one that he managed to voice with reasonable clarity despite the dry rasp and lack of volume. "Why am I still alive?"

Nadia grimaced, something almost like sympathy flitting across her face before she looked up at Alberich standing beside the bed from her own position seated opposite. "Get some water, please? At this rate, he'll manage to strain his throat along with every other muscle in his body."

Kyn frowned at the joke made at his expense, but didn't have the will to care about it for very long, much less the will to voice a protest. Grudgingly, he also had to admit that he felt very much like what the healer had described; limp as a water-sodden dishcloth, one that had been wrung out a few times for good measure. He could barely recall a time when he had felt so...used up. Still, the very fact that he felt so horrid only meant that he was still occupying a body to feel at all, and bemusedly, he tried to raise a hand into his field of vision, just to check if it was still his own.

When he couldn't, he had given himself up as being in some god's joke of an afterlife when Nadia made a disapproving sound, pushing his arm down against the bed. "You're not going to be of much use for the next few days. And even then, it'll be touch and go for another few weeks. Maybe even months."

He blinked at her uncomprehendingly.

"The reason you're alive, Nadia is," Alberich filled in as he moved efficiently to prop up Kyn's head, holding a sand-smoothed wooden cup to his lips. "Pride of the Healer Collegia. Lucky you were, to have her talent with you tonight."

The healer sniffed, the momentary gentleness vanished as completely as if it too had been a dream. Gaze flinty as she watched Kyn's awkward attempts to swallow, she informed them coolly, "I did it for Sianni. She's already off her feed; if I hadn't done something, most likely I wouldn't be watching two patients, I would be watching none as they both slipped into the Havens."

_Hadn't done something? What had they done? What had _she_ done?_ Kyn thought, aaghast. He wasn't supposed to be alive. He was supposed to be dead. Free.

Alberich's eyes were unmoving on him, constantly watching, constantly assessing. When Kyn turned his head slightly, away from the cup, the weaponsmaster set it aside and laid him down again. "Tell him," he said in the ensuing silence.

Nadia blinked at the un-Herald. "What?"

Alberich nodded to Kyn, who had let his eyes fall half-closed, still dazed and limp as a landed fish. "Tell him what you saved him from. And what he will face in the future."

Kyn wasn't particularly interested in hearing. But protesting would have taken energy, and he didn't have any to spare right now. Exhausted by the simple act of keeping his head raised at the right angle to drink without choking, even with the Alberich's help, he was trying - rather successfully - to fall back asleep before they had a chance to ply him with more questions. Until he realized just what the healer was saying.

Nadia had passively disagreed with the weaponsmaster's decision in her lack of response, but with his too direct stare soon turned on her for her stubbornness, she squirmed and dropped her eyes to the coverlets, fingers unconsciously knotting and fussing with the hem of her tunic. "I don't know how much you know about the drugs," she began sullenly, speaking to the sheets beside Kyn's right shoulder, "because it's a rather uncommon combination you've been dosed with. It's also the deepest addiction I've ever seen in someone so young. Five? Six? Is that when you started, a decade ago?" Twisted curiosity warred with pricked pride, and she finally glanced sidelong toward her charge. "It's probably why your build is still so slight. I don't think you'll ever quite reach the height or breadth you might have without the drugs' influences, and there are quite a few other irregularities...it'll take time to sort out."

Addiction? What was the girl talking about? "Drugs...poison...?" Kyn husked, brow furrowing.

Nadia arched one slender dark brow with a light snort. "Poison? It's a form of one, if you list its effects. But not one that kills immediately; not one that might have killed at all, normally. But you don't seem to do anything by half measures. Some of your symptoms looked like it came from anceele seed, others from smokebalm weed. I wouldn't be surprised if it were some concoction with half a dozen other elements in it. The shock alone when you didn't receive your usual dosage after so many years of dependency would have been enough to overwhelm you. I've never seen someone succumb to anything so quickly before."

Addiction. Not a poison, after all, though strictly speaking, it was just poison of another sort. Unless the Heralds were lying. Why? How would it gain more information from him? By trying to turn him against Master? He worried and prodded at the morsels of information that had been imparted to him, when his sluggish mind finally followed one particular line of thought to its conclusion.

Alberich nodded, something in Kyn's face giving him away. "Cushioning the effects, Nadia saved you. But the last time, this won't be."

"The later episodes won't necessarily be easier on you either," Nadia added, her tone flat and uncompromising.

Kyn let his head sag to the side on the pillow, eyes closing completely. Yes, this was something he could understand. Relief from the 'fits', in exchange for information. Either suffer through them alone for the months ahead, or impart what he knew and receive...what? Another addiction, chained to the healer for the surcease from pain she could bring?

* * *

He was sitting in his room, the one in the old, decaying manse just outside the capitol, scooted just far enough to the edge of the bed that his feet were able to reach the ground, hands laying calmly on his knees. There was an unnatural chill to the air, despite the clear sunlight streaming through two small windows set high in the wall, its warmth drained hungrily by the undressed stone blocks that comprised the room's dimensions, unsoftened by rugs or tapestries. His desk stood silently to one side, attended only by a plain chair, an unlit lamp, and the materials needed for writing. Kyn frowned as he contemplated the furniture.

His desk was in the wrong place; it had been moved into the corner two years ago. His pallet, too, felt a little too thick. Another vision, then...no, a dream. His visions always reflected the future, never the past. But when there was a knock on the door, he could only sit there and stare at the plain-faced door, wondering numbly if this really wasn't a future-vision. 

No one had ever knocked. They had simply walked in. _Am I going to return? Will I escape? Or will Master have caught - rescued me?_ Another knock shook him out of his reveries, and he belatedly called out, "Who is it?"

"Nadia."

How could this be? Nadia, in Master's home. Was this past or future or simple dreaming? The future often erred, especially since the sole purpose of his visions was to warn him that the future needed changing, but the past was done. There was no changing how things went before, and this 'dream' had the clarity and detail that belonged to memories, rather than fever wanderings such as the nightmare he had recently suffered.

"May I come in?"

He wondered if she would go away if he said no.

"No, I wouldn't. I have questions."

He scowled. That was becoming an all too familiar trick of the Heralds and their Companions. Standing, he walked over and jerked the door open. "Will you stay out of my head?" he snarled.

Nadia stood on the threshold into his room with a determined look on her face. Oddly enough, she was not dressed in the healer's greens that he had seen her wear in their two, brief sessions, but a simple off-white shirt and suede leggings. Incongruously, her feet were slipped into a pair of hemp-woven sandals, much like what fisherfolk often donned. "Ihave," she responded tartly, not at all cowed. "_You_ just have to learn to stay_ in_ it. Now are you going to invite me in?"

Simmering, he deliberately made her wait for a few, long heartbeats before swinging aside, bowing her in with ill grace. "Certainly, m'lady, since you insisted," he bit off.

She swept past him without acknowledging any of his petty jabs, looking around with an interest he found disturbing considering their austere surroundings. There was little, after all, that required such a thorough examination to be understood in its entirety. "Amazing," she murmured to herself as if he didn't exist. "The level of detail, all so loyal to the real memory rather than relying on symbolism..."

"What are you doing here?" Kyn interrupted harshly, shoving the door closed with more force than was strictly necessary and folding his arms. "For that matter,_ where_ is 'here', beyond the fact that it resembles a place I've known."

"It's your room," Nadia responded cheerfully, as if he didn't already know and she didn't already know he knew. "This has all been constructed by you in your mind, a sort of waking dream based on memory. With Sianni and someone else's help, I was able to slip myself into your construct." She tilted her head, turning that unsettlingly searching gaze on him. "I am here in an unofficial capacity, if you will. Thus, the lack of uniform and the meeting taking place somewhere you feel safe in." She wrinkled her nose. "Sianni put me up to the idea, because she felt you would dismiss her out of hand. But I'll admit I'm curious myself, so I agreed."

Safe? Nowhere was truly 'safe'. A wall could very well fall in on a person, or some rock drop out of the sky, beyond those dangers coming from those who would wish a body ill. But this room was_ his_. And as his territory, he supposed he felt more reassured here than anywhere else. Still, it was a load of horse crap that he had never heard before, and would prefer not to hear more of. "If you're here to talk, then talk." She could talk until her metaphysical voice was hoarse for all he cared. He wasn't going to be sticking around to listen.

"I'm going to talk, but you're also going to stay to hear me out," she said as he started for the door. Inviting herself to a seat on his bed, she smiled smugly when he slowly turned to glare at her. "I am going to get some straight answers from you, right here, right now. I don't believe you're as ignorant as Heralds Alberich and Melidee think. I _know_ you know a lot more about this 'Master' of yours simply from the room. I believe you actually had regular contact with the 'master' and that this wasn't the first task he'd set you out to do."

"If this truly is _my_ dream, you think you can hold me against my will?" he asked in low, dangerous tones.

Sobering, Nadia shook her head. "That's not the purpose of my visit. As your healer, I've been privy to things about you that perhaps only your Chosen knows, and I'm looking for some way to piece it all together that makes sense. You've yet to be fully tested, but I know of at least your Foresight. I also saw the potential for Mindspeech - which is already struggling out of latency - and ironically, empathy." Her mouth twisted into a sardonic smile. "Wouldn't that put a crimp in your current occupation if it was developed fully."

For a breathless moment, he couldn't see anything, he was so furious. _How dare she?! _Ever since he had been trapped by a Companion's eyes, all he had been told were lies and half-truths, made to expect one thing and then shown another. He could comprehend being tortured for information. He could understand it if they tossed him in the deepest, darkest, dankest cell and forgot about him. But to have himself read like a book, for no apparent reason than to torment him with how few defenses he had against them? It was an incomprehensible cruelty. As he gaped at her, one thought surfaced from the maelstrom: if they would not let him die, then they could take his stead.

Lips peeling back, he leaped almost before the idea crystallized into coherence, hands outstretched, ready to snap her neck, crush the delicate cartilage in her throat, to thrust the splinters of a broken nose into her brain, half a dozen other ways to silence her permanently with no tools at hand, if only to stop the wholesale pillaging of his identity...

_You will not harm her!_

Suddenly, the world vanished. When it reappeared in less than a blink of an eye, it was ten feet forward and six feet lower than it had been. Shocked out of his murderous frenzy, Kyn's reflexes took over as he twisted, cat-like, to get his feet beneath him before he hit the floor. Only partially successful with the relatively short distance he had, he stumbled to one knee, flinging out his hands to brace himself. Panting, he slowly turned his head to stare at the healer.

Nadia had barely moved, putting up a brave front, but he could see in her dilated pupils and the whiteness around her mouth and knuckles how discomposed she was. In her voice, too, there was a tremble she tried valiantly to hide as she commented, "I would not suggest trying that again."

"Who was that?" Kyn whispered hoarsely, eyes wide, reluctant to move with hands, feet, and one knee planted on the solid-seeming floor, ignoring the heat leeched from the points of contact by shadow-chilled stones. "What happened?"

Her lips compressed to a thin, disapproving line, Nadia carefully uncurled her fingers from the bedspread and tried to fold them casually in her lap. "That was my lifebonded, Miklo. He insisted on monitoring the meeting, in case...something like this happened." It was an even gamble whether she was more upset by Miklo's being right or by the unexpected attack. "His gift is Fetching. Sianni augmented it just enough to move you out of immediate range. Though we are not exactly 'corporeal' here, the body - and Gift - is still subject to the limitations of the mind." She seemed to debate with herself for a moment before she admitted, "You shouldn't have been able to hear him. He doesn't claim Mindspeech as one of his gifts."

"They...'fetched' me? Lifebonded?" The anger was wholly gone now, but in its place there was nothing but a swirl of confusion circling the void where it had been. He felt as if he had just been tossed into a pond of freezing water; too numb yet to feel the cold, too shocked to understand the danger he was in, too belated to do more than hold his breath as his senses tried to sort themselves out.

"Lifebonded is...is..." she blew out a breath in frustration, rolling her eyes ceilingward as she searched for the words. Finally, she waved a hand absently and said, "We are bound, heart and soul. We _know_ each other like no other, better than we know ourselves. We are part of a whole. If Miklos were to die..." She grimaced. "Havens forbid...in all actuality, I would most likely follow him."

Kyn stared at her, horrified. _That's_ what a lifebond was? "How...how likely are lifebonds to happen?" he half-croaked.

She looked at him suspiciously. "I don't know. I know only a bare handful by name, but it's not an uncommon occurrence."

As she spoke, his heart doubled its pace in sympathetic reaction. To be tied to someone so closely, not even death could part them? And to have no choice in the matter? To have such an occurrence be something frequent enough that nobody took special notice of it! How did Valdemar survive with such vulnerabilities in its people; taking in assassins without question, binding couples unto death, effectively doubling their chances of being incapacitated or killed?

"In fact," she continued on blithely, "I'd say it's not unlike being Chosen by a Companion. It just...happens. And the bond runs deep enough that there are dozens of stories of Heralds or Companions not surviving the loss of their partner, sometimes by choice - Kyn?" Nadia interrupted herself with a frown, not quite willing yet to reach out to him, but perhaps a healer's instincts prodding her to ask after his wellbeing. 

He could only mutely shake his head in reply, laboriously pushing himself to his feet and staggering back a step.

How had he come to these straits? Even if he was no longer in fear of losing his life if he didn't check in with Master every fortnight, he had only traded one set of shackles for another. The Valdemarans were illogical, weak, hideously exposed to innumerable threats...and he had been claimed by them as completely, as matter-of-factly, as a stray puppy by ignorant children. "Hypocrites," he whispered.

Nadia flinched, surprised. "What?"

"Hypocrites!" he hissed again, more emphatically though scarcely louder than before. It seemed as if dismay had stolen his breath temporarily, if not all his wits. "You dangle 'freedom' before me like a carrot before a mule, and even as I perform for you, you remind me of the reins!"

Her eyes flew wide, and a small corner of his mind noted grudgingly that she looked honestly surprised. "Wha - Kyn! Where in Havens did you get that idea? We would never - "

"No more!" he suddenly cried out, nearly shocking himself as badly as her. "No more," he repeated in a lower, but no less vehement tone, whirling around to head toward the door. _No more claims to my life, my actions, my skills. Just...no more._

_:You demean Nadia and the bond she has with Miklo with such thinkings.:_

For all the patience displayed in the even tone, for once he caught a hint of true anger in Sianni's reproach. No more reprimands couched in playful teasing. No more overtones of fond indulgence padding the sharper edges of cutting words. As he expected, the magnanimity extended only so far as the worth of his perceived usefulness. As soon as he became more trouble than he was worth...

_:We will not discard you simply because we have gotten what we wanted!:_ He could almost see her stamp a fore hoof in exasperation. _:Oh, why did I ever Choose such a stubborn and thick-headed one as you? I merely wished to point out that you do Nadia a disservice, as well as all lifebonded.:_ In a softer tone, she added, _:Not to mention all Companions and their Chosen. Do you really feel as if you are a slave? Have I treated you so ill?:_

"Stop it!" he cried aloud, clutching his head, clenching his fingers in his hair as if to physically draw the voice out. For all that Master did to him, even _he_ had never invaded his thoughts, set up a permanent residence in his mind, leaving nothing to himself. Even if Kyn had had no privacy in reality, he had at least had the option of _withdrawing_, but now even that small comfort was taken from him if he wasn't constantly on his guard. "It's all your fault! I had no questions before, I knew exactly what was expected of me...I was happy!"

"Do you really believe that?"

In the time that he had paused to retort to Sianni, Nadia had recollected herself, face flushed, eyes gleaming with a fire that might have given even him pause while focused on assignment, much less while he was so off-balance. 

"I - " he managed stammeringly before she jabbed a finger toward him while rising to her feet, cutting him off. 

"I don't think so," she decided for him. "Content, maybe, because that was all you had, but not happy. Havens only know if you even _ know_ what happiness is, from the way you carry on! Or maybe you _were_ happy, in a perverted, masochistic way. But for all your faults, Kyn - and believe me, you have quite a double handful of them - I never thought to count cowardice among them."

He bristled, spluttered a bit, before getting past the false start with a roundly imaginative, "I am not a coward!"

Her eyes narrowed. "Aren't you? Faced with change, you run and hide. You would even rather face Death than adapt. The ultimate solution to anything you don't want to deal with; go away and leave it all behind. If that is not a mark of a coward, then I don't know what is."

This time, he welcomed the anger purely for the clearness that followed in its wake. All the foggy concerns gave way before the diamondine point of his anger coalesced, though wariness of outside observers kept him at a distance from the healer. "You think it was easy, facing death?" he whispered fiercely. Nadia's expression faltered, something in his own face causing her to retreat with a hint of uncertainty. "Do you think the thought of my heart stopping, the breath freezing in my lungs, my body rotting away while I - I either cease to exist or am carried off to whatever hell is reserved for unrepentant killers...do you think all of that is just a pleasant night's dreaming?" Dragging in a deep breath in an attempt to control himself, he bit off the rest of what he was going to say. He would be damned if he let a child's old terror continue to hound him now. It did not matter to him anymore, if there were no others to remember him whenever Master finally decided to quit this life. Some time ago, he had told himself that it would actually be preferable to just fade away, with not even memories to bind him any longer.

For a moment, she stared at him, not quite slack-jawed, but completely at a loss for words. Just as he was about to turn away in disgust, her chin firmed and a glint of defiance straightened her posture. "A poor excuse at best. All of us will meet with the same end eventually, so there is no use in being afraid of it. However, we can choose when - and how - we meet it. I would rather meet death knowing I had confronted and defeated what found me in life than because I could not accept it."

"Don't feed me that line, _lifebonded_," he said acidly, looking to wound, and having the dubious satisfaction of drawing blood as she flinched.

Hurt, however, soon gave way to pity, and somehow that one look was more cutting than anything she could have said. "You don't understand, because there's nothing in your experience that you can equate it to," she said slowly, as if trying to explain to an especially dense child. "The comfort that Miklo provides me, the security...to have someone always be there when you have need, to help you celebrate and to ease your tears, to devote their lives to the one goal of making you happy..."

"And that is all worth the void that will steal your life with it if he dies?" he interrupted sharply.

Nadia nodded without hesitation. "It is. And it is not the void that would steal me...I would choose to go with him."

"From the loneliness, I suppose," he drawled, turning away. "So dependent on him that you can't continue without him. Forgive me, but it seems that what you're praising is a fate I wouldn't wish on my bitterest enemies."

"If so, then I don't know why in the world you would wish such a fate on someone who loves you unconditionally. Sianni would pine away if you were selfish enough to hide from life through death." 

_:Interfered enough you have, Healer.:_

The un-Herald's characteristic speech pattern, even if there wasn't a certain 'flavor' to give the mindspeaker's identity away. Interestingly enough, Nadia blanched, revealing just how 'unofficial' this visit really was. _:I got him to actually talk to me...:_

_:Later, Nadia. Not before the boy.:_

Nadia bit her lip, glanced toward Kyn guiltily, and stood. _:I'll be right there.:_

"Why don't you just carry on the conversation around me?" he asked bitterly. "I know you can do it."

"Because Alberich is trying to accord you some measure of politeness," Nadia tried to snap, but had her stern tone ruined by a wince. "I said I was coming!" she called out, grumbled, and then cast Kyn a glower. It soon softened with a sigh, though, and she said, "I'm sorry to have disturbed your rest, Kyn." She reached out as if to touch his face, though half the room separated them.

Forewarned, he let the room fade away even as he evaded her mental touch, her haste and distraction just enough to keep her from noticing. _You,_ he sent to that place inside himself labeled Sianni. _If you wish for any chance at conciliation, do not warn them that I am aware._

There was reluctance, and a touch of pain at his suspicion. But he cared for none of it except for the assent that eventually came. _:As you wish, Chosen.:_

* * *

Kyn had forgotten the aches that seemed to have become embedded in his very bones in his last few, conscious hours. Head swimming, stomach lurching, muscles complaining with sharp, shooting pains, he nearly gave himself away in the startling transition between the wholeness of his dream self to reality. Still, his concern for the conversation nearby was enough that physical ailments claimed a distant second for his attention, and thanked whatever gods existed that Nadia was being distraction enough for herself and Alberich together that his few twitches went unnoticed.

"Not your place it was, Healer."

"Yes it was. As soon as you asked me to treat a killer, I had a right to know what - who - I was saving."

It was a strange sensation, knowing there was an eavesdropper on his eavesdropping...and not caring. Somewhat like have someone constantly peering over one's shoulder. But if nothing else, Kyn was absolutely certain that once given, Sianni would not renege on her promise not to interfere, and felt oddly comfortable with the arrangement if not completely at ease, and even the latter arose solely out of habit. He didn't dwell too long on the whys of his sudden trust in her, when he had just recently accused the entire collegium of being liars.

"Not like your experiments this situation is! There is no starting over if you misstep! Already, you risk much; if Sianni and Miklo had not watched..."

"You weren't making any progress," Nadia continued stubbornly. "And they _ were_ watching, and nothing came of it. Don't you understand? His talents and training are unique. I don't know if it's a product of his upbringing, or the drugs, or both...there are signs of other sources of tampering as well that I hesitate to ponder right now, but if you want to find out anything on what he was sent to hide by silencing the merchant - "

There was a low, rumbling growl, startlingly feline for all that it came from a human throat, and just as intimidating. Kyn was thoroughly impressed by the un-Herald on a whole new level...and oddly, felt compelled to proffer the same token of respect to the healer who did not back down before him. "Dabbling in deep waters you are now. Know you what nonsense you are spouting?"

"Yes, yes, I have no idea what I'm talking about. But don't you see? I know just enough to be dangerous to you now. It was unavoidable; he's not properly shielded, I had to reach him on a certain level in order to save him, certain facts were passed along the connection. So to save yourself a lot of grief and trouble later, you might as well let me in on the entire thing so that I won't unintentionally blunder through one of your schemes."

There was a long pause, and Kyn resisted the urge to slit his eyes open, just for the experience of seeing the willowy healer try to out-argue a veteran fighter topping her by a head and a half. "Just because circumstances fall conveniently in place does not your actions make right."

_:If you were curious, I would have been willing to tell you without your needing to resort to duplicity.:_

He didn't quite scoff. _:I did you all a disfavor in killing the merchant, did I not? Why would you describe your strategies to your opponent's pawn?:_

Sianni sighed wearily. _:Perhaps, by setting an example, I will finally get through to you. For weeks now, there have been hints of outside influences and dealings in the court. Far more centralized, far more organized, far more dangerous than the usual plots and conspiracies that usually plague the political arena. The chief troublemaker _appears_ to be a duke who claims holdings along the East Trade Road, but there is evidence that he is either not acting alone, or someone else entirely is in control. Merely the figurehead, Duke - :_

If Kyn had his eyes open, he might have blinked. She was actually doing it. She was telling him the machinations that had moved him and other agents across the board. Except, quite suddenly, he was very certain that he didn't want to - _should not _- know of them. _:Wait!:_ he called out, interrupting her before she could start naming names.

_:Yes, Chosen?:_ she responded calmly.

A little too calmly. There was the slightest touch of annoyance at being manipulated so easily - and by a _horse_, for light's sake, even though he knew intellectually that Sianni was much more than just a 'horse'. But it was quickly subsumed by the realization that in his directionless flailing about, he had nearly compromised everything. Bewildered by the turn of events and utterly confounded by the alien logic that Heralds and their Companions propounded, it still did not excuse his panic and stubborn refusal to learn everything possible of them and his situation, to possibly turn it to his advantage. It took Sianni's blithe recital of information that he instinctively knew he shouldn't know without risk to life and usefulness to remind him he was not lost completely, that he didn't _believe_ himself to be completely irretrievable. If he had been truly unsalvageable, it wouldn't have mattered if he had heard or not, that he possessed sensitive information that could do irreparable harm if it fell in the wrong hands. Beyond the immediate goal of his assignment, he still had a purpose, that which was given to him by Master.

And damn Sianni if she hadn't deliberately maneuvered him into seeing it all. Instead of the usual resentment and fear, though, there was a growing sense of grudging respect. The Companion might be unreasonably agreeable, but she had just proven she could be as conniving as Master if she wanted to be. _:Why am I here, at your 'collegium'?:_ he asked Sianni sullenly.

There was a disgusting lack of smugness to the feel of her voice. In fact, she seemed positively cheerful; he could all but imagine her arching her neck and prancing about like some demented, four-legged white fairy. _:I Chose you, and so you are now a Herald-in-training. You will be taught the history of Valdemar, its laws and its people, and the skills necessary for you to survive in the field. You will be prepared for every situation that your teachers can imagine you'll encounter in your missions for Valdemar and the queen. And when you have passed all the tests and requirements, you will be given Whites, and made a full-fledged Herald.:_ She seemed pretty certain that he would be able to make Herald status, when he wasn't even sure Alberich would be willing to let him out of his sight without a circle of guards posted on him. She also seemed pretty certain that he would be letting them stuff him into their mold of a Herald. But he didn't need his visions - his 'Foresight', the healer had called it - to know that she was right in the latter assessment...at least, for the time being. Reconnaissance work aside, he would do Master no good if he got himself executed or locked away. 

_:How do I start this 'training' business?:_

He told himself that the ghostly nudge against his shoulder, as if a soft muzzle had been pushed against his back, urging him forward, was just his imagination, or perhaps delusions were another symptom of withdrawal. _:Just tell them that you're ready to become a Herald.:_

Kyn didn't think it was quite as easy as that, beyond which, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to become a Herald yet. Still, if Sianni claimed that it would work...

"Questions?!" Nadia was saying stridently. He had let his awareness of the physically audible conversation drop as he had conversed with Sianni, and he was almost sorry now to have missed what led up to the current subject as the healer stamped a foot and fumed, "Of him! Aren't you the least little bit curious in that thick soldier's skull of yours?"

_:The un-Herald has a lot more patience than I thought he would.:_

_:Alberich is full of surprises. Why, just the other day it was rumored he cracked a smile. A small one, to be sure, but genuine all the same.:_

_:And the healer is far too excitable.:_

_:Give her time. Age will mellow her out. Eventually.:_

Nadia continued to all but harangue the weaponsmaster. "Why was he Chosen? Havens, he still had the man's blood drying on him! I thought Companions only Choose those who would put Valdemar and its people before themselves, who would be willing to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. It's rumored that Companions are never wrong," sarcasm there, sharp enough to cut the tongue that wielded it, "but what could Sianni have possibly found in an assassin? What is his use to Valdemar? And what - and who - has stunted the growth of not only his body but his mind? He has little more grasp of things than a child."

Child? A vague sense of disgruntlement clouded his thoughts before it was dismissed as irrelevant.

"Child?" the un-Herald echoed his thoughts so closely, there was a panicked moment in which Kyn thought he had inadvertently spoken out loud. But no, fast upon the sound of confusion, Nadia hurried on, pell-mell.

"You didn't feel it, his fear? It's the only redeeming thing he can claim right now. Certainly not regret. Not remorse. I don't even know if he really understands what the words mean, outside of a hypothetical context. But behind all that rigid posturing, there's an almost unreasoning, purely instinctive fear that any child might have for something they don't understand. And for all his training - I have no doubt his master is one of the gentry, from the mannerisms he's been taught - he has just about as much understanding for anything outside of his current 'career' as a ground burrower knows about flying. He's been sheltered to an unimaginable degree."

"Suggest you then that this 'Master' be his father?"

"Perhaps, in a surrogate sense. There's a lot more ties between 'Master' and Kyn than simply employer and employee. Kyn was living in the same place as him, I'm certain of it...for a very long time." A short pause, in which Nadia made a thoughtful sound. "'Master' and 'kin'. I wonder if there's a joke somewhere in that."

Father. Inside, Kyn prodded the concept as if it were a newly discovered cavity in a tooth. Funny, how that question had never worried him before, the concept of his origin and conception. He knew _of_ fathers. Knew he must have had one, along with a mother. Knew also that neither were present in his memory. But the application of the idea to himself had simply never concerned him...and he wondered why that was, when its mere mention now wove little knots of apprehension and doubt in his chest. But other matters required seeing to first. Resolutely, he refocused his meandering thoughts and opened his eyes, blinking at the crusty feel at their corners.

Alberich snorted softly. "Beside the point all that is. His current placement is what concerns me now."

The healer looked much as Kyn imagined she would: stiff, defensive, fists clenched by her sides. She might have looked quite formidable, if she wasn't craning her head back to meet the decidedly unruffled weaponsmaster's gaze. "That should be blindingly obvious. You can't lock him up forever. He's Chosen! You have an obligation to him as such."

Alberich's smile was mirthless. "Note the 'you' I do, instead of 'we'. Havoc you cause, and the mess you leave for others to clean." Then, even that small token of amusement vanished. "What would you have me do? What he is capable of, you have seen yourself when Miklo and Sianni's intervention became necessary. Have him put with the other Trainees? Asking for trouble you are, the most dangerous kind."

"I do not kill indiscriminately."

Nadia visibly started, eyes wide as she spun around, but the weaponsmaster seemed to be not at all surprised by the husky whisper that interrupted them. Eyes narrowing, Alberich merely folded his arms and regarded Kyn with a speculative look. "Not proven beyond doubt, considering your performance a half candlemark ago in particular."

Kyn's eyes slid toward the healer. "She deserved it."

Nadia's mouth worked, but no sound came out until her fair skin abruptly flushed and she snapped, "You're not supposed to be awake!"

Alberich didn't even bother acknowledging the exclamation. And neither did he outwardly deny that the healer had been receiving her just desserts, Kyn noted with no little amusement. "And what's to stop you now? Already it is shown your master has many holds, beyond what you were trained to do on reflex alone. What assurance can you give that the collegium will not be plagued by accidents and deaths in the near future?"

Taking a deep breath, Kyn scraped up as much honesty as he was able to, threatened Sianni in afterthought that if she gainsaid him she would wake up one morning shaved bald, and said, "Because I wish to become a Herald."


	5. The Words Between: part 5

**NOTE: **Check back on chapter 4 if you haven't already. I added to the notes on the top, and added another section on the bottom. I didn't realize that fanfiction.net doesn't mention edits/updates, but only lists new chapters (even though I should have - d'oh). Next time I do something like this, I'll be sure to repost the whole chapter so that ppl'll know that it's changed. Sorry for the mix-up...but now you get two - well, one and a third - chapters for the price of one. =D 

See de flaming sheep go down de hoooole...

See the sheep get abducted by the alien spaceship...

See Baa Baa Black sheep make sheep blush...

Don't mind me. It's amazing how much amusement I can derive from a purple horned yellow cotton ball screenmate.

When I am dreaming I don't know if I'm truly asleep or if I'm awake,  
When I get up I don't know if I'm truly awake or if I'm still dreaming.  
- "Dream", Forest For the Trees

The Words Between - part 5

For the next two days, Kyn wished avidly that Sianni had not been so quick to stop him the night he was Chosen. He could see, he could hear, he could feel; all the annoying details that indicated he was conscious and held a corporeal form were there, but he found very little reassurance that he wanted to stay that way from the signals he was receiving. He would have ignored them completely if he could, escaped into dreams or visions, whichever presented itself first, if a certain healer wasn't constantly interrupting his attempts to shut off the world. He was alternately grateful and needled by her presence; things seemed to be a little better when she was around, but she was also constantly prodding him to eat, drink, or just 'stay with her'...as if the un-Herald would let him go anywhere. 

On the third day, she left. He couldn't remember anything of the third day, and thought himself lucky not to. He would have preferred not to remember the fourth day either, but by then the healer was back, and she was refreshed and prepared to drag him kicking and screaming through the candlemarks again. Well, whimpering, if he wasn't quite up to kicking and screaming. 

At least - when he had wits enough to ponder it in one of his more lucid moments - she hadn't tried to ply him with more questions beyond the ones concerning his wellbeing. Perhaps Alberich had finally managed to instill some sense into her - such as rightly fearing the un-Herald's wrath on further infractions. 

Kyn didn't really believe that, though, even when he was at his most delirious.

Six days, and Nadia suddenly pronounced him past the worst of it for now and unceremoniously left. A few heartbeats later, the taciturn Melidee entered after a brief knock to announce her imminent appearance. Trembling, rank with fever sweat, weak as thrice-brewed Kilfer's Flower tea, he was all but half-carried by Melidee into the baths and then left to his own devices along with a set of new clothes. The Herald seemed even less inclined to talk than Alberich if possible, which Kyn was quite content with at the time. Saddled with the indignity of needing a prop and barely remembering to keep his eyes focused on where he was placing his feet, he wasn't in the mood for small talk. It was an almost companionable silence that trailed them to the baths and back; without Nadia's curiosity, Alberich's suspicion, or even his own need to gather more information about his immediate situation. When he was returned to his room, the place had been aired, the sheets changed, and a light repast of thin, wafer-like bread slathered with a bland meat paste and fruits laid out on the bedside table. Melidee left him again, and with curiosity prodding mercilessly, he shuffled over to the door to open it to a thin slit, examining the foyer beyond. There was no one there, not even Melidee who must have waited in the outer room before to have arrived so promptly when Nadia left.

The internal debate over whether he should leave now was a brief one at best. Even if he had not committed himself to the role of Herald trainee, he didn't think he could make it to the stairs without planting his face into the floor, much less make it off the collegium grounds altogether. Thinking sourly that the Heralds had probably expected as much and thus didn't bother posting guards, he stumbled back to bed, took a half-hearted bite out of one of the fruits, and barely remembered to pull the sheets over himself.

It was fully dark before he awoke again, and on cue, there came a soft knock. He still had a tendency to turn and stare at the door for a moment before remembering that whoever was on the other side was waiting for his response. He didn't know why they bothered, especially since the attempt at giving him some modicum of privacy was ruined by how they always seemed to know exactly when he was awake or ready for company.

Melidee opened the door upon his assent, prepared with a thick, gray woolen cloak draped over her arm along with a lighter one already clasped around her shoulders. "Ready to be reacquainted with Sianni?" she asked.

He eyed the cloak that was obviously intended for him and asked, "Why?"

"It helps smooth out the bonding process if the ones involved are having...difficulties." She shrugged, shaking out the cloak and proffering it toward him with a thin-lipped smile. "And she misses you. Now are you going to be a good boy and go visit, or make her come to you? She might make it through the door, but by then, I don't think you'll have enough room to twitch a foot."

A Companion trotting up two flights of stairs and stuffing herself into the room? A suspicious poke in the direction of Sianni yielded an altogether unsatisfactory answer, and considering how obviously insane everyone at the collegium was, he was quite convinced that it was not only highly possible she would try something like that, but that it was all but assured. Sliding out of bed without another word, he took the cloak and wrapped it around himself, washed his face, and followed the Herald out of the room. Melidee solicitously paced him as she indicated the way with short gestures, somehow managing to stay close enough to offer an arm if he needed it without managing to seem hovering. Again, there were no words exchanged beyond those that were absolutely necessary.

Kyn eventually determined that he liked her the best out of all the Heralds he'd met so far, even more than the reserved un-Herald, who was too much of a threat for Kyn to ever be completely comfortable around. Her questions had been abrupt and far too focused for his peace of mind during their first meeting, but he could understand what had prompted them, and now, it was like she was a completely different person. There was a serene sense of things moving as they willed, without urgency, without pressing need to drive events. He could remember specific instances that had felt like this, moments in which he thought he had been the most content.

The manse had a barely visited and nearly forgotten garden, more a courtyard than anything else, surrounded on two sides by the manse itself and forbidding stone walls on the rest, the blocks set high enough that the place was left in shadow for the majority of the day. But Kyn never minded. Sunlight felt more of an interloper than the near-twilight gloom. Delicate things grew there, ferns and fronds and snowflake-ornate blossoms, that drew their greatest appeal from the mystery of pre-dawn's dew and nightfall's bruised and dying light. Neglected and wild, they spilled over the carefully laid boundaries of long ago gardeners to fill the space with their spicy, pungent odor of moisture and last year's mulch. Willows trailed their branches to the ground like the hair of grieving widows, scrabbling at the moss-covered walks or their lower-statured brethren with each slow shift of the humid air. Dwarf maples with serrated leaves that flashed a spectrum of red-orange-yellow hues to rival a fire's in autumn rubbed their branches together in soft susurrations at a mouse or bird's passing. In one corner, a stagnant pond that expanded and shrank with the seasons and rains reflected the sky's moods with a dark, mirrored surface, unmarred but for a bright green collar of algae like patina on bronze, the only place where the sun might reach without running a gauntlet of hungry leaves and straining branches. 

But it wasn't the beauty that Kyn appreciated. He would have been hard pressed, actually, to describe what exactly resided in the garden, beyond a riotous blend of every shade of green imaginable. It was the feeling of absolute stillness in the place that he craved. Where time held no sway beyond the longer-lived seasons governing the garden's cycles. No demands, no tasks, no objectives. No lectures, no lessons, no criticisms. Isolated, abandoned, its simple existence was enough to justify its place in the world. He would stand by the leaning bole of a willow's black trunk, and watch the clouds skid across the pond's glassine surface, or merely stare into the illusory depths if nothing was reflected in the faux-dark waters, made obsidian in the wall's shade. 

There was some measure of that feeling in Melidee, of ambient noise and distractions absorbed, their presence unknown until one noticed their lack. Or rather...there was that feeling in her right now. Going over what he could recall of the night of his Choosing, Kyn couldn't help but worry at the impression that it had not been like this then, this feeling of being..._shielded_, and what could have caused the change.

_:Or maybe you're just unnaturally paranoid and see her as the least threat, either with a blade or with her tongue.:_

Stumbling over the threshold leading out of the building into the night-bound fields, he scowled at the ghostly shape waiting just beyond the nearest walkpath. Shrugging away the hand Melidee had automatically extended as soon as he had faltered, he stalked up to Sianni as best he could on wobbly legs and planted a finger on her forehead, right between the eyes. "_You_ should learn to keep your opinions to yourself, especially when you know they won't be appreciated," he growled.

Sianni gazed at him with limpid blue eyes, remaining meekly still under his finger but for a lazy flick of her tail at some night insect. _:You just haven't learned how to appreciate them yet. But I'm patient.:_

As he glowered, Melidee coughed discreetly and asked, "Sianni, you'll be all right watching him tonight?" At the Companion's slight dip of her head in assent, the Herald bid a good evening to them and left without a backward glance.

As soon as the woman was out of earshot, Kyn directed toward Sianni, "They're actually going to go through with this? Put me with all the other trainees?"

_:I thought that's what you wanted. That it was part of your plan.:_

His scowl deepened at the near mockery. He wasn't about to call her on it though, and make himself look the bigger fool by asking confirmation on her too deliberately guileless question. "Maybe it is. But what do the others know about me? I can't imagine you've managed to convince everyone into believing I should be welcomed with open arms."

_:Nobody has been told anything. You are just another trainee to everyone you will meet in the course of your classes or lessons, with the exception of Alberich who will be monitoring your skills with the weapons.:_

He arched his brows high and drawled, "I didn't think dissimulation was supposed to be in a Herald's repertoire. How did you convince the guards to let me leave with you?"

She tossed her head with a snort, flicking her forelock back. _:There's no need to be deliberately offensive. We told them that we were on business concerning the queen's safety. That you were a Herald trainee, in the wrong place at the wrong time. And then we let them draw their own conclusions.:_

"So they think I was taken to be tried under your own laws as a trainee for plotting against the queen?"

_:They think that you are a _witness _to a plot against the queen who needs our protection. Which, in a way, you are.:_

Kyn drew the edges of his borrowed cloak close, crossing his arms beneath with the fabric fisted so that it enclosed him completely in its space. _ They have everything all figured out. So what's left for me to do now?_

_:If you're cold, I can help,:_ Sianni offered, taking a step closer and nudging him in the chest with her nose.

Kyn swayed and scowled at her. "I don't need your help."

Sianni turned her head slightly to focus one amused, sapphire orb on him. _:Oh really?:_ And she shoved him - hard - with her nose.

He thought he might have yelped ignominiously, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out how he could have done that when he was lying stretched out on his back, the stars swirling in the night sky above him, his body gone nerveless when the air had been knocked out of him by the unexpected fall and without the resource to draw another breath. A white head with a wispy forelock falling into impossibly blue eyes interposed itself into his field of vision. _:Would you mind leaning forward just a little, Chosen? I wouldn't want to sit on you, although I daresay I wouldn't do as much damage squashing your head as breaking your hand.: _Numbly, he coughed, blinked his eyes clear, and then did as told, disentangling himself from the cloak long enough to push himself into a sitting position. Stately as a queen holding court, Sianni maneuvered herself behind him and folded her legs, managing somehow to snug her bulk against his back without squashing his head as threatened or anything else in the process. _:You _may_ lean back, you know. I won't break.:_

He bit back a retort that it wasn't worry about her breaking that had kept him stiff-backed and reluctant. But the tumble he'd been given had upset his orientation more than he would like to admit, and he gingerly relaxed, finding himself settling all too familiarly into the slight indentation between her shoulder and barrel. A slight wriggle, a possessive curl of her neck...

And suddenly, it was as if his entire being 'clicked' into place, when he had been subtly off-kilter from the world his entire life. It was like being in the garden, or with Melidee, the world creeping back in when she had left and him not noticing until now, only this was infinitely better. It was belonging...and blessed stillness...it would have been alarming, if it hadn't felt so right.

_:I will be your pond, your garden, your haven, Kyn. I will be everything and anything you need that I can possibly be, always, whenever you have need. I promise.:_

For once, he felt no need to protest, either her presumption or the eavesdropping.

* * *

"How is your reading?"

"Fine."

"How is your penmanship?"

"Fine."

"And your figuring?"

"Fine."

The man behind the desk sighed, leaned back, and folded his hands across a trim stomach. But for the ring of salty-pepper hair around a bald dome, the pair of spectacles tucked up on top, and the ink stains on his squared fingers, he might have looked just as comfortable out on the field drilling as Alberich. "Perhaps a different method of questioning is required to gain an accurate assessment of your abilities," he noted dryly.

_:He doesn't waste time, does he?:_

_:Be kind, Kyn. You're not making it any easier for Herald Tantris.:_

"And please do stop chatting. I know you're excited about being Chosen, and having your own Companion, but we need to find out which classes to place you in as soon as possible. I promise you'll have plenty of time to get to know your Companion later - or rue the day they found you, if they're a gossipmonger like mine."

Kyn blinked.

Sianni's Mindspeech was laced with amusement as she crowed, _:Oh, but isn't he! Khanflass always has the juiciest tidbits...:_

Kyn tried to suppress a reflexive scowl and said stiffly, "I beg your pardon, Sir. I will try to keep it to a minimum." Accusatorily, he sent,_ :I thought you weren't broadcasting.:_

_:I'm not. But you are. Tantris doesn't have Mindspeech, so Khanflass must have tattled.:_

_I am? _Kyn barely had enough time to give Sianni the mental equivalent of a gawk at her second sentence before Tantris harrumphed, gave him a pointed look, and Sianni abruptly withdrew with an embarrassed apology. "All right, now that I finally have your undivided attention," the Herald continued on an even flatter note than before, though his smile was sharp enough to draw blood. "Would you mind reading this for me?" He tipped his chair perilously far, seemed to know to the exact fraction of a degree he could maintain its equilibrium at without tipping over, and chose a text off the bookcase behind him without ever turning away. Straightening his chair again with a sharp _thunk_ as its forelegs settled, he unselfconsciously brushed off the dust that had accumulated on the tome and pushed it across the table toward Kyn.

Kyn rose from his own seat halfway across the room from Tantris, and glanced over the title. "Which part would you like me to read?"

The man waved a hand unconcernedly, near-black eyes watching him intently. "Open it to whichever page you like. It doesn't matter."

Kyn's mouth quirked as he ducked his head, pretending to be concentrating on the volume as he opened it and hiding the sardonic twist to his half-smile. "And so it was," he immediately began reciting, "that in the fourth year of Roald's reign, that Selephious of Baroness Genlaine's court was caught in adulterous liaison with the baroness' cousin Count Lonfriss' maiden daughter, for which the brother of the maiden in question challenged with swords on point of honor. On a casual note, let this observer state now that a duel seems a somewhat tardy remedy, and more of a treatment of the symptoms - the stigma of relations out of wedlock - than of the cause - the lack of proper attention paid by the maiden's family, who then - after the fact - compounded their error by paying all too much. This is to say nothing of the poor lady wife who had been wronged by her husband's faithlessness. But, to return to the event to be related by this chapter, this was the germ of the conflict that Herald Mirriglass encountered three years later, which had by then flowered into a feud of truly glorious proportions..."

"That's enough."

Kyn obediently stopped, closed the book, and took a step back from the desk. Clasping his hands behind him, he tightened his fingers about each other until he was sure the knuckles were white with the strain, feeling the expected itch begin along his bones and joints. Ever since the fevers and agues had abated, he had been alternately saddled with an unnatural lassitude or an almost jittery energy. It was the latter that was currently afflicting him, and he had to fight the urge to pace, to pick up one of the objects spread across the Herald's desk to play with, or just to chew on something - simply to be rid of the pins-and-needle sensation crawling over his skin.

Tantris' brows drew down until they were nearly meeting, a single shelf of gray-blue hairs as bristly as those on a boar's chin. "Five plus three."

"Eight," Kyn replied promptly, eyes focused on the empty space in the shelves where the book had been taken from.

"Fifteen subtracted from forty."

"Twenty-five."

"Six multiples of eight."

"Forty-eight."

"How many handkerchiefs should a gentleman carry?"

"Two, for emergencies. One for a lady's, and one for his own."

Finally, the broad grin that spread across Tantris' face was one of true mirth. "I see you've read Leafchaser's Wayward Travels." A pause, and his brows rose as one. "You say you are not gentry or nobility."

"No, Sir," he replied levelly, still focused on the empty spot.

"Were you fostered by a noble family? Tutored with their children, perhaps?"

"No, Sir." He considered his options briefly, and allowed another truth to slip through and hopefully appease the man's curiosity and hurry the interview along. "The man I lived with...he abhorred ignorance." Master had also detested the manner-less, and disliked explaining himself when he felt the knowledge should be obvious to the educated. The decision to school Kyn in subjects beyond the merely physical ones that would be necessary in carrying out his tasks however, also served a second purpose beyond soothing Master's sensibilities. It would not do for Kyn to be sent on an assignment for documents or books he couldn't recognize, or ledgers that he couldn't scan and note the discrepancies in. Though that skill was double-edged...Kyn would not have been so eager to browse the contents of what he was supposed to be carrying back if he didn't believe that Master had absolute trust in his loyalties.

The thick lips twitched, a dimple making a surprise appearance before Tantris levered himself out of his chair. "Well, you owe him a debt of favor. You'll be placed directly into the more advanced classes, and we'll see how it works out. If all goes well, you should finish most of your academic requirements well ahead of time."

Kyn bowed his head politely, nodded in all the correct places while instructions were given, and obediently shook the Herald's hand when it was extended. Ushered out the door at the conclusion of the meeting, he stopped, right there in the middle of the hallway, the closed door at his back. _:Sianni.:_

_:Yes, Kyn? How did your meeting go?:_

Ignoring the intent to distract thinly disguised as curiosity, he asked bluntly, _:What was that about my broadcasting?:_

It was interesting hearing someone attempt to send the impression of clearing their throat through Mindspeech. Considering that Sianni was physically incapable of making a sound like that, it was even more interesting to see - or hear, in this instance - the sort of human habits she had picked up _:Well...you are. I apologize for not bringing this up earlier, but recent events have been...distracting. I imagine one of the first lessons Herald Tantris suggested concerned the training of your Gifts? Either your Mindspeech's emergence had remarkable timing, or your recent 'illness' served as a catalyst, bringing it out of latency. Whatever the reason, the symptoms of its shift into activeness was masked by the last week.:_

His jaw tightened. _:And this 'empathy' that Nadia mentioned. Is that going to spontaneously emerge sometime soon as well? What other surprises are there?:_

_:I don't know,:_ she replied in wistful apology. _:Nobody really knows what exactly will trigger a Gift or when it will happen. As for what else you might be capable of...you will find out when you are officially tested.:_

Releasing a long breath, he shook himself, a long shiver starting from the base of his spine running to the top of his head, before turning to his left. _:I don't suppose you have a stop-gap solution for my broadcasting until these lessons Tantris prescribed start?:_ He didn't fancy having his side of the conversation spread across the collegium grounds. Lengthening his strides to their maximum as he approached the bend in the corridor, he was nearly jogging by the time he rounded the corner and was abruptly stopped by Alberich's arm across his chest.

_:I can show you the basics, and more if given time. I would also offer you my carrots to save your fingernails, but I'm afraid I slobbered a bit last night when I went for a midnight snack.:_

He wrinkled his nose in disgust, remembered the thumbnail that had strayed into his mouth and was being rapidly pared down to the quick, and shoved both hands behind his back as he looked expectantly up at the un-Herald. _:I did _not_ need to know that.:_

_:Yes you did. Now pay attention; Alberich's not just acting as escort today.:_

Kyn resisted the urge to snap back that it was she who had interrupted first as he arched one brow at the weaponsmaster expectantly.

Alberich smiled thinly. "Warned you she did, I see. Also in one of your phases you are?" Kyn nodded shortly, gritting his teeth at the unintentional patronization. The un-Herald tilted his head with a strange look, as if reading Kyn's thoughts - who knew, perhaps he had - and turned without warning to lead the way out of the building. "Then enjoy this you probably will."

Kyn wasted little time pondering the un-Herald's words as he hurried to catch up to the other man's strides, uncharacteristically long with little regard to what pace he had to set in order to keep up. Still, it was a joy to be in motion, and Kyn had no complaints except for the unexplained mystery presented by the weaponsmaster. _:What is he talking about, Sianni?:_

_:You'll find out soon.:_

No help from that quarter. Trotting and walking in combination as he alternately caught up and fell behind Alberich, Kyn remembered to keep his fingernails away from his teeth and tried to distract himself with the places they passed toward Companion Field. The glitter of sunlight off the windows of a five story building in the distance he didn't recognize, a pair of butterflies flitting across a small garden to their left, the near invisible stitches that mended various tears and wears in the un-Herald's uniform. Anything and everything was enough of a subject to hold his attention for at least a few heartbeats.

He was successful enough that he almost walked into Alberich's back when the man stopped before one of the pseudo-stables that dotted Companion Field, stepping swiftly around so that it would seem he had intentionally maintained his momentum for that very purpose instead of having merely been inattentive. By now, he was nearly bouncing on his toes with the unnatural rush of energy.

"Inside," Alberich motioned with a hand, following word with action as he stepped through the wide double doors that were kept open at all times except in inclement weather, and then only to be closed by the Companions themselves using cleverly designed handles and clasps. Following, Kyn absently noted the silence that came only from complete non-occupancy, a pitchfork leaning against a near wall and a bale of hay only half-strewn in a stall. At least one worker had been hustled out on short notice, and no Companions in sight or earshot - 

_:I'm here. Along with Alberich's Companion, Kantor.:_

He looked out the doors with eyes narrowed in suspicion as the two Companions moved into sight from a copse of trees to the left. At a leisurely walk, they would arrive within the space of a few breaths. "What's going on - " Kyn began as he turned to face Alberich again, and felt his entire body seize up with the adrenaline rush as he saw the knives in the un-Herald's hands.

The weaponsmaster watched him with a clinical eye, noted the instinctive reaction to place an obstacle at his back - a wall, in this case - body tensed for action, balance lowered and arms half-raised, ready for defense. Nodding in approval, he extended one of the blades forward, holding it by its tip, hilt away from him. "Calm. Merely to test your skills I wish before deciding where to place you."

Kyn shuddered, sucked in a deeper breath, and slowly uncoiled to take the weapon gingerly. "To test me?" he asked, uncertain of the man's objectives - and was given no response except a sudden flash of light off the gleaming edge of the weaponsmaster's remaining knife streaking toward him. Lips peeled back in a silent snarl, off-balance as he was immediately put on the defensive, he nevertheless responded in like manner as ingrained training dictated. 

Dodge to the left, bring up his own blade to block even before he had a steady grip on it, let the un-Herald's strike merely kiss the edge and deflect aside, rather than meet it head on and risk losing his only weapon to the shock on an unsure hold. Shuffle two quick steps left, his feet never leaving contact with the sawdust-layered ground, giving himself more room to maneuver as the bigger man rushed forward in an attempt to pin him against the wall. Confirm the grip on the knife, shift so that the blade followed the line of the forearm, thumb tucked against the pommel's edge, and adjust the stance so that he was ready to defend vital parts with his left arm while the weapon was readied to strike for openings.

Alberich gave him precious few to work for. A blur of steel that came impossibly from the one little blade sped toward him, and Kyn was hard pressed to deflect it with his coordination still unrecovered and the illness-bred jitteriness playing havoc with his timing. But this was what he had been trained for, the entire purpose of his life; to have a target, and then to eliminate it.

Dip the shoulder, let the body follow through, sliding to the right even as his arm flicked out, striking for the lung...blocked. Already backpedaling away from the expected counter, he twisted desperately aside and brought his blade around again to deflect it past him, and then another deflection as the failed strike was brought back with a viper's speed to catch him on the counter swing, and then a complete miss as he finally moved fast enough to evade the un-Herald's reach.

A sudden lunge forward, left arm sweeping in and then out, letting it take the cut meant for his torso as he focused on the telling stroke for the neck...evaded. Continuing to push the advantage, he matched his opponent's steps back, an elbow into the man's side serving as distraction as he waited for another opportunity - there. A thrust up beneath the sternum for the heart.

Blocked.

At every turn, he was either blocked or evaded, even as he soon realized that he might have been dead many times over if Alberich had chosen to push for the kill. Still, he was used to being bested, by his teachers if not his victims. In fact, he found a strange comfort in the heart-stuttering rhythms of light glancing off metal and steel striking steel, the shuffle of soles across the ground and the harsh sounds of hastily drawn breaths. This was the familiar in a time of unprecedented upheaval in his life. This had been _ routine_.

And suddenly, in the space of a twist, two replacements of the feet and a sharp strike, it was over. Kyn retreated rapidly out of Alberich's reach, nursing a numbed and now-empty knife hand, flushed and with an altogether wild gleam in his eyes, he was sure. It was only then that he realized that the 'cuts' he had received along his left arm when the limb had been used as a shield were not there at all - the edges and points of the knives were blunted, a fact that Alberich had withheld and then distracted him from noticing with his attacks.

He had the satisfaction of seeing the un-Herald wipe a light sheen of sweat off his forehead with his sleeve and hear the deeper-than-normal breaths. The man was unbelievable with the knife, and he had at least given himself an accounting that the weaponsmaster had noticed and would remember. Kyn did not move as the un-Herald approached slowly, careful to show that he meant no threat, and straightened respectfully as the man reached for his left arm, trying to bring the frantic pace of his own heart and breaths down to normal. 

Puzzled by the man's actions, he let him take his hand and elbow, and Alberich pushed up the sleeve to reveal the fine network of white scars that criss-crossed the skin all around, faded from time and all but invisible on the already pale background. The weaponsmaster seemed unsurprised by this, a standard tactic when facing an experienced opponent being to sacrifice a nonessential part of the body as shield, but there was a soft hiss of surprise when he turned Kyn's arm over and traced the thicker, deeper scars on his wrists.

"Tried to take your own life before?"

Kyn shook his head as the un-Herald took his right wrist as well, turned it over to reveal the same marks along the veins, sans the scars from knife duels. "Master took some blood before. Not much," he added quickly, eyes flicking up toward the man's expression with sudden suspicion.

Yes, he saw disapproval there, along with surprise; the unfavorable kind. Even more, though, he saw a worry that seemed wholly alien to the weaponsmaster's features. He felt unaccountably shaken by that trace emotion, as if its presence on a face that had rarely carried it was a powerful foreboding in and of itself. "Blooded you, he did," Alberich stated darkly, before dropping Kyn's arms and taking a step back, meeting his gaze. "Taught well you were, and learned well you did. But still thinking like an assassin you are; waiting too long for the one clean strike. Most of all, little of engagement you know, and your strikes are intended all for death, never injury alone. Thus will you not join my regular classes, until you have learned otherwise."

Kyn's brows furrowed as he tried to follow the weaponsmaster's reasoning. _Know little of engagement? Waiting too long for the clean strike?_ He could understand not wishing to throw him into the midst of other trainees in weapons practice for fear of his injuring someone through sheer reflex alone, but he could not make the connection between the strategy the un-Herald had just described with his occupation as an 'assassin'.

_:He means that you tend not to engage the opponent, but always seek to dodge and slip away. You keep your distance until you find the one opening that would lead to a sure, quick death. While this might work well for your previous occupation where you are allowed one strike and one strike alone and thus had to be absolutely sure that it would count, as a would-be Herald, you'll have to learn to defend yourself in every situation up to and including open battle, and that way of fighting can quickly work against you.:_

Kyn nearly strained his neck, whipping his head around to stare at the Companion watching from the doorway alongside Sianni. He had never heard Kantor Mindspeak, but he was sure that it was he who had just spoken to him.

"Here we will meet every other day," Alberich continued as he collected Kyn's dropped knife, tucking it along with his own blunted weapon away on his person somewhere, hiding them as neatly as any streetside magician earning coin for bread. "Assuming I am that you have received training in other types of weapons? Test all of these I will, and attempt to retrain you to use less lethal practices - or, at least, to use them with discretion. Sometimes enough it is to merely wound the opponent, or it is necessary to wear them down. Right now, none of these you can accomplish."

Kyn's face hardened. He fancied he had more control than that. But for the sake of the smoothest relationship possible with the un-Herald, he suppressed his indignation and merely nodded.

Pausing in the doorway, Alberich added, "Wait in your room you'll need to in a candlemark's time. Nadia wishes to observe your progress." And with that last message cum warning, the weaponsmaster left, taking his Companion with him with an unexpectedly gentle touch to Kantor's neck.

_:You should rest, now that you've worked off most of that nervous energy,:_ Sianni suggested gently, taking a step toward him and stretching her nose out to nuzzle his left wrist. He was surprised when he found that she was right; he felt much less inclined to bounce off the walls now, rather than merely float as his body tried to make up its mind whether to be crushingly exhausted or to approximate the 'normal' state he had been acquainted with before entering the collegium. _:I will be taking a nap too,:_ Sianni added as if her participation would encourage him to do the same. Perhaps it did, he grudgingly admitted as he recalled that first night he had spent with her out on the field. But no; he should wash, and perhaps eat before he was due for his appointment with Nadia. Nodding her head in understanding, Sianni gave him a last, gentle butt of her head before she ambled off in the opposite direction from Kantor and Alberich.

The sun was starting to sink toward the treeline. Kyn's stomach grumbled though he didn't feel particularly hungry, actually felt slightly nauseated by the thought of food. Nevertheless, if he didn't want Sianni nagging at him - and then Nadia when the healer found out - he better scavenge something from the kitchen on his way, and he stepped out of the stables to do so.

The breeze shifted. Just a soft breath of air that was noticeable only for the slight chill of drying sweat and the scents it brought with it. There was the smell of something smoldering; not strong enough to have come from an uncontrolled fire, yet still heavy enough to be unmistakable. Perhaps leaves shed from trees preparing themselves for winter had been collected from the private garden, set to flames to either preserve the garden's appearance or to keep some stray spark from bringing it all down to cinders along with the buildings nearby. The thoughts flitted through his head like the butterflies he had observed earlier, touching coyly here and there, yet never settling. They danced instead around the central image that had overtaken him with the first whiff of burning vegetation - a vision, strong enough to steal his breath and squeeze his heart with an invisible fist.

The city. He had to go into the city, right now. Master was waiting.

Head thumping to the same rhythm as his heart, he turned blindly around to face the section of the field into which Sianni had wandered into, and tried to send as nonchalantly as possible, _:Would they let me off the grounds?:_

There was a sleepy, puzzled, wordless thought of query before she replied, _:You are not a prisoner here.:_

No, he wasn't, but he had not missed the fact that there was always someone nearby if not outright within sight; Alberich, Melidee, Dheeran, and of course, Sianni. Almost, he thought they only used someone he recognized just to make sure he was aware that he was being watched, rather than because they were the only ones who supposedly knew of his history. But he wasn't about to argue the point right now, and started for the nearest path.

All walks eventually led to the gates that dotted the walls surrounding the core of Haven. Whoever had designed the collegium and palace grounds had kept utility alongside aesthetics in mind when the walks were laid; weaving in and around the grounds, providing a deceptive feeling of expansiveness and de-emphasizing the artificial nature of the landscaping, they eventually led one into another until the last brought the walker to a gate. Kyn took advantage of that fact when he had yet to memorize the grounds completely, his pace kept down to a fast walk only because he didn't want to appear flustered and out of breath before the guard or guards that would be posted at his destination.

A quick nod of greeting from Kyn, a flick of the guard's eyes to his Trainee's grays, and he was allowed through with only a blurred wish of good eve. Kyn barely registered the words, breezed by without reply, and took only a quick look around to orient himself before heading toward the western quarter of the city. He spared only enough thought for the hawkers and vendors redoubling their efforts for a last sale at the end of the day to be annoyed by them. The pedestrians hurrying home from work or errands were nothing but obstacles, the increasingly complex maze of side streets and alleys as he entered the poorer district a nuisance he would have gladly throttled the city architect for. And then...he abruptly stopped, breath hitching, not caring when someone from behind nearly ran into him with the sudden halt and sidestepped with a grumble.

_:Kyn?:_

There had been...something. A scent. Half familiar, and far too tantalizing. Sucking in a sharper, deeper breath, he turned his head to left and right, searching.

_:Kyn, what is it? Are you all right?:_

There. It came from over there..._ :Yes. Go back to your nap; I just thought I saw something.:_ Without waiting for a reply, he turned his attention elsewhere, pretending distraction, and Sianni reluctantly let him be.

He didn't have to pretend very hard, though. The scent had become heavier, an acrid tickle in the back of his throat, almost enough to make him either cough to get rid of even that trace amount or to breath in as much as possible and saturate his lungs with it. An alley...two turns...one made in error before he found his way to a narrow space between an old chandlery that had shut down a week or two ago and a textiles shop. There, a bundle of rags was huddled against the wall with a familiar cane propped against what might be a shoulder, and before it, a small metal bowl. One that did not contain coins or other knickknacks that might be offered a beggar. Instead, something smoldered within, blackened and withered, tiny red embers gleaming at the bottom. Kyn drew in a ragged breath and rasped, "Master."

The rags shifted, and a clear blue eye observed him from within. "You've strayed." The voice was soft, the accent cultured, words delivered smoothly with an unconscious tone of command beneath the disapproval. 

And there was no surprise that Kyn had found his way here, on this day, at this time. There was no question in his mind that Master had arrived here and settled himself little more than a candlemark ago at most. The man would not have tolerated the squalor longer than that. 

Kyn's eyes lowered to the bowl of their own volition, and he swallowed thickly as dream-vision visited reality. "I'm...sorry."

A hand emerged, the good left one, and patted the space beside the seeming beggar. Master, despite the locale and his disguise, had fastidiously cleared the area he was sitting in of the most noisome trash, then spread relatively clean papers across the rest. Still, Kyn lowered himself to the ground with the same gingerness that might be better given to the most fetid swampland.

"I will not accept excuses. Only reparations."

Hanging his head and closing his eyes, half to keep from meeting Master's cyclopean gaze and half to breath in more of the tantalizing curls of smoke, Kyn murmured, "I understand. What would you have me do?"

There was a soft scrape of wood as Master drew his cane to him. "Though you entered at an inopportune time, you are still in the right place."

The words were enough to distract Kyn away from the hypnotizing scent, to lift his head as he blinked owlishly at the man beneath the rags. "That's where my next assignment was to be? In the collegium, or the palace?"

"Do not think too much," the admonishment snapped out, a rasp haunting the sharper registers until Master remembered to lower his voice again. "You are exactly where you need to be. Further details will be forthcoming in the coming weeks."

In other words, Kyn had managed to position himself where even Master could not have hoped he would be able to in his wildest dreams. He had been Chosen. He was a Herald Trainee. He was as good as invisible within Valdemar's capitol, with alibis that were all the stronger for the truth behind them. Even with the fog that seemed to have taken up residence where his brain was, Kyn was wise enough not to push the point that he had outstripped expectations with Master in this mood, but merely lowered his head further in penitence. Besides, it was Kyn's fault in the first place, playing unintentional deserter.

Master pushed himself up with the aid of the cane, a smooth hitch and lunge that had been practiced for over two decades to hide the effort that the simple action took. "You will visit this quarter of Haven once every two weeks. I will expect the usual report."

As Master tap-dragged his way out of the alley, Kyn stared down at the remains in the bowl, uncomfortably grateful that the man had left it behind for him.

* * *

Megan: Lol. Wow. Some of that's just too close to the mark to not be funny, especially after this chapter. =) (Though, I think all that tends to start sounding like fortune tellings after a while - where they make such general remarks, that you can't help but find some sort of event that'll fit with the details tweaked a bit.) Thank you for the note. I never thought to look up what 'Kyn' meant or implied, but I'm even happier with it now after I've read all that background info.

ola - grins Hint received. ^_~ Hope it was worth the wait.

Oy. 3+ months of relative inactivity, and then an entire weekend devoted to skiing and learning snowboarding? I can barely type now. But, even more dangerous to my writing than that, is the full time job along with the beginning of the spring quarter at the local university. While I'm only taking one class through extension, I've had five years to forget the basics. Soooo...I'll most likely be posting even slower than the snail pace I've kept before. My apologies to the avid readers of this fic, and I hope you'll continue to check in every once in a while to read the new postings.


	6. The Words Between: part 6

4.22.02 - I made a little change in the middle, since I decided on some extra scenes I wanted to squeeze in later on which would have conflicted what was written here. If you're reading back and want to know exactly where the change is, it's in the paragraph beginning: "He didn't recognize the first tickle of premonition when he turned onto the mixed soup of gravel and dirty water..." I deleted about a line's worth of words near the end.

And wheee, I now have a color for the uniforms of the noble brats. ^_^ Thank you, sky, Megan, for dropping those notes.

* * *

Well...okay, I lied. With several of the largest projects on hold pending some key people making up their minds, I managed to get in more writing for the last few days than I did for any of the previous chapters. But I also flunked my first quiz (wheee!) so time to drag my head out of the skies and hit the books. ^_^

Megan - blinks innocently   
Heh, you actually went and did the dreaded 'r' stuff (research - pseudo, anyway). =P That deserved a little recognition, at least. ;)

ola - Ewwy. Hope you get better fast! (Though, then you don't have as many excuses to lounge in bed with hot chocolate anymore...) And thank you for going through the trouble of coming back to comment. =)

Swift Shadows - Thankye! And here it is!

Mrf...btw, I would really appreciate it if someone dropped me a note whenever/if I make a gaff (such as listing the wrong color for uniforms - btw, what _was_ the color for the kids being sent to the collegium for schooling who weren't Chosen or Gifted or whatnot?). I don't happen to have any of the Valdemar novels in easy referencing distance, so I'm trying to dig things out of a swiss cheese memory as I go along. =)

The Words Between - part 6

Kyn was most definitely not in a good mood.

It could have been the rain. The skies had opened up in the middle of the night with an unusual downpour that, in a month or two, might come down as snow. But on this day, it had turned the collegium grounds into a quagmire, overcast the skies into twilight, and given everyone in general a sour mood, including Kyn, though for different reasons. 

He had no complaint with rain, even found a peculiar fascination in the fall of water from the sky, but some change in the seasons or the air or maybe just the length of perceived daylight had given him a low-grade headache that had persisted throughout the day. It was only exacerbated by the invisible glue he seemed forced to wade through since the morning's waking, and the blatant reprimands two of his instructors had found the need to deliver in class when he had somehow drifted off with his eyes open. At least, he didn't remember actually closing them for longer than a blink. He couldn't recall much of the lectures, and the instructors had certainly noticed he wasn't paying a smidgen of attention to them. Even Sianni was avoiding him today, for which he could hardly blame her.

The constant tug and pull between Nadia and Master wasn't working. He was finding it harder and harder to look dumb and ignorant when she complained about the plateau his recovery seemed to have petered out on. Master, he was sure, knew about the efforts the healer was making to wean him away from the dependencies, and had subtly changed the mixtures each week, perhaps to counter the headway she was making. Or maybe he was being subtly punished for his recent lapse. In the end, Kyn found himself swinging back and forth between the two's tender care, and he was hard-pressed to remember just what 'normal' felt like anymore. Even though he wasn't due to meet Master for another week, and Nadia for another three days, he felt as if he was at least a handful of days past _either _appointment. By the end of his last lecture - one of two designed to beat Valdemaran history into his head through sheer force, he was convinced - he had decided that it would be more than judicious to visit the healer's workplace, using the weather as an excuse for his sorry state. He wasn't about to give her more fuel for her suspicions when she was already complaining constantly about his stubborn refusal to heal by her standards. And for all her faults, he had to admit that she knew her profession well.

He didn't recognize the first tickle of premonition when he turned onto the mixed soup of gravel and dirty water that comprised the path toward the Healer's Collegia, and attributed it to some stray drops that had managed to sneak down his neck. When he shook himself and rolled his shoulders in an effort to rub away the moisture and the sensation went away, he thought the problem solved - until the sound of voices nearby prompted another cold crawl of impending vision up his spine. Rebelling at the tantalizing half glimpses he was being given, he stopped in mid-stride, ignored the feel of water enveloping the lower inch of his boots, and stubbornly waited for the future to paint itself, all but daring it to show itself. 

And waited. And waited. And continued waiting, until the creeping cold around his toes reminded him that standing out in the rain like a fool was not going to help.

When his Foresight refused to show itself any further, he snorted and angrily tugged the folds of his oiled raincloak, dislodging the pools of water that had begun to gather around his shoulders. _How predictable,_ he snarled at the unresponsive Gift, stomping through his next few steps until the splashes began soaking into his lower pant legs and his head started to pound. _The one thing I can depend on is how undependable you are, especially these days with _those_ two playing tug-of-war over me._

"No, please...my mother made..."

"...awww, wouldn't want...can't have her baby all..."

"Hurry it...out of the rain..."

As Kyn continued toward the Healer's Collegia, he resolutely ignored the steadily increasing volume of the voices. He pretended not to notice the large group of students - mostly noble-born from the unaffiliated blue of their uniforms and their arrogant stances - encircling a small, muddied figure to his right, barely working at a pretense of concealing their activities in a corner made by a U-shaped lecture hall. Then again, they had less to fear today, with the weather keeping most sane people indoors, unless someone with the Gift of empathy happened to be in the area.

"Please! Why are you doing this? Just give it back! I'll give you all of my allowance for the next week - the next month, even! - if you'll just give that back to me..."

The whine grated. Kyn couldn't resist casting the boy crawling around in the mud a disgusted look, chasing after some brightly colored object being flung around the circle of mocking youths. When his Foresight tapped him on the shoulder again, he turned away quickly lest something else rouse it into a full-blown vision. Couldn't the boy see that he was just making his situation all the worse, begging like that?

As if to prove his unspoken point, the ringleader - obvious by his body language and the way the others all looked toward him, taking their cues from his actions - twirled the object of attention around a finger: a bright green cap, heavily embroidered, with a few bedraggled scarlet, cream, and brown-barred feathers sewn into one edge. "Oh, but I wouldn't want you wasting all your money when all you have to give up is this paltry little thing. What do you guys think?" he asked rhetorically as he plopped the soggy thing on his head, looking ridiculous with it dripping into one eye and striking a feminine pose, batting his eyes. "Is it my color?" he simpered to a round of hoots and catcalls. It was difficult to tell with the rain, but Kyn was sure the boy was in tears by now, staring forlornly at the bully.

"Oh, just get on with it, Stef," a voice called in calculatedly bored tones, out of place with its higher and sweeter register. Kyn actually stumbled as Foresight wouldn't be denied this time and hit him with the force of one of Alberich's swings when the weaponsmaster was driving home a lesson, snapping a bewildering series of indecipherable images and sensations through his mind before falling inexplicably quiescent again. If nothing else, he could be grateful for the sudden, searing clearness that was left in its wake, the fog that had filled his perceptions burned clean away as if he had woken for a second time that day. Gasping in a hasty breath, nearly choking as rain was caught along with air, he whipped his head around to the group again, searching...there.

Four figures stood apart from the ring, haughtily aloof. Three were fashionably slender, all unmistakably female, clad in the latest rage in raincloaks amongst the female population with means during this season, distinguishing themselves by that much when stymied by the collegium's uniforms. It was one female in particular that held Kyn's attention fast however, and he squinted as a pale, elegant hand appeared to twitch a fold of the oiled cloak smooth, trying to see more within the drawn-down hood than just the soft point of a chin and lightly rouged lips. In that glimpse before the hand retreated, a surprisingly simple band of platinum, wrought in some fanciful shape, gleamed even in the dim lighting where it encircled the forefinger. "I don't care what Madam Ben'Laria said, these cloaks aren't going to keep the damp out indefinitely," she spoke again, her voice every inch as commanding, arrogant, and condescending as the ringleader's. "I want to go inside. Now." 

"Don't ruin my fun, Fei," Stef warned, the smile stiffening on his face as he watched his victim with the bored curiosity of a cat wondering if the mouse was really dead, or if it would twitch again with a few more bats of the paw. "The day's already miserable enough as it is. I've got to have something to liven it up since you've suddenly decided that I'm good enough to parade in front of your lackeys, but not good enough for your bed."

As hungry and responsive as a school of sharks, the group's attention wavered and began to refocus on the four lone figures, three of which shifted uneasily and took an unconscious step back, away from the one the ringleader had called Fei.

Unafraid, the girl sniffed audibly and pulled out a lock of hair a red so deep, it was almost the purplish burgundy of fine wine. Gently patting it into place at the edge of the hood's curve, she took her time before replying, "You know, that is just one amongst many examples of why I refused. Your father's cutthroat business tactics and the fortune he won from them might have bought you acceptance in society, but it will never make you anything but a boor."

Stef turned his head sharply, his play forgotten as he growled slowly, enunciating each syllable with dangerous precision, "What...did...you...say?" The cap slipped, bounced off a broad shoulder, then plopped wetly into the mud.

With a pained cry, the nearly forgotten boy dove for the article. Reminded of his presence, Stef and a fellow instigator brought the boy up short, hauling him squalling and wriggling up into the air like a blind worm dragged from its lair.

Rolling his eyes, Kyn washed his hands of the matter and turned away, for once looking forward to braving Nadia in her own territory.

"That I'm bored," Fei said loudly, as if repeating herself for a simpleton and making no effort to disguise her earlier words. "But..." she continued, a purr insinuating itself into her voice as she turned to look beyond, toward the trainee that had caught her attention with the flare of the cloak's hem when he had turned away, "I think it might have just become a little more interesting. Perhaps our little princess' white knight has finally shown up to rescue her?" She pitched her voice with magnificent precision, unmistakably directing the question toward Kyn.

He continued at his current pace, neither speeding up nor slowing down, ignoring her completely.

There was a laugh, deceptively bright, and Fei pitched her next words for all to hear. "And here we have a shining example of the Heraldic ideal! Leave the underprivileged and the downtrodden scrabbling in the dirt!"

The boy, having since ceased his struggling as useless, sniffled.

"It's none of my business," Kyn snapped without looking, knowing as soon as the last word left his mouth, even without the warning of Foresight, that he had done exactly the wrong thing in replying.

His ire at Fei forgotten in the face of potential new sport - or, perhaps, eager to avoid an increasingly embarrassing scene - Stef motioned sharply toward two youths with his head, smiling broadly as he watched them advance on Kyn. "We could make it your business."

"It would be in your best interests not to," Kyn warned - uselessly, he knew - as he was forced to stop and face them, but it would make his involvement look better to Alberich when the weaponsmaster found out about the altercation.

"Thanks for the warning," one of the youths closing in on him sneered. Both had thrown their hoods back long ago, their hair plastered into a thin cap on their skulls, unmindful of the weather as they began to reach out toward him, their stances sloppy in their hubris.

Recalling the un-Herald's lessons over the past few weeks, Kyn aimed for the bundle of nerves in the side of the neck rather than the vertebrae, and the youth who had spoken dropped like a sack of meal. He was bending down to make sure that his first victim was not only out cold but still breathing when the second youth recovered from his surprise and rushed him with a wordless roar.

Kyn was shorter than most of his age group, with far less mass than a boy his age should have accumulated by now. But he didn't let that fact bother him - had been unaware of it until Nadia pointed it out - and let the bully come to him, easily dodged the first and second swings, saw his opportunity just before the third one, and dispatched his opponent nearly as efficiently as his first one.

"I know you," came Stef's words in the ensuing silence. Kyn looked up, and realized when he had to blink the rainwater from his eyelashes that his hood had slipped back during one of his moves. "You're that kid who's always showing us up in class, thinking you know all the answers."

Kyn shrugged. "Which one?" he asked flatly, honestly not recalling which class the other youth was referring to. There was rarely anything outside of his immediate lessons that concerned him enough to devote attention to. Master only cared for the identities of the Heralds and other faculty, and any high-placed personages that might be visiting.

Flushing, Stef roughly shoved the boy toward his compatriot, letting the other, leaner youth stumble under the unexpected weight. "Oh, you'll remember well enough after this day..."

_:Kyn?:_

_:What?:_

_:What's happening?:_

He muttered a silent imprecation to himself as he swept one edge of the hindering cloak aside, gauging the rapidly closing distance between Stef and himself. He had practiced the techniques assiduously as soon as they had been taught to him, but sometimes in moments of intense concentration or stress, he still had a tendency to let his shields slip. It didn't help that Sianni was more sensitive to his moods than a hothouse orchid to cold._ :Nothing.:_

_:I suppose 'nothing' has you tensed up as if you're about to face off Alberich again?:_

_:The un-Herald can stay out of this conversation,:_ he told her tartly as he lowered his stance, not about to make a fool of himself by letting overconfidence over the initial, easy wins trip him up. If he could make this look fast and easy, taking down the gang's ringleader may allow him to walk away instead of running. _:If you don't mind, I'm about to be very busy in a moment.:_

Sianni was still trying to get a word in edgewise when he slipped around the first punch, and then hastily threw himself aside at the unexpected elbow that flew toward his face. He felt a touch of vengeful satisfaction as he felt her shock at the image he had let slip down the link, and she contritely fell silent...at least, on his end. He had no doubt she was spreading the news fast and furiously that a brawl had started in the middle of the collegium grounds, which meant that he had to end this _really_ fast if he didn't want Nadia, Melidee, or Dheeran - or even, the stars forbid, Alberich himself - bearing down on him posthaste. 

Stef, for all his bluster and bravado, knew his way in a fight; a _real_ one, rather than letting principles such as 'fairness' or 'honor' get in the way. He might have picked it up in strings of tavern brawls for all Kyn cared however; all that concerned the reluctant Trainee was that Stef was only interested in beating the snot out of him and had the experience to accomplish it if Kyn wasn't careful. The footing was made uncertain by dislodged detritus and slick mud, vision constantly being interfered with by the rain. But for all that, the familiar movements seemed to help clear Kyn's head even more, and almost, almost he was content enough to let the opening pass by when it presented itself. But he wasn't that big of a fool yet, drugs or no. 

The bully relied too much on his constitution. Stef may be solid as an ox, as broad as a tree, and top most of the other boys by at least a head, but he still had all the basic weaknesses that anyone with a human body would have. Such as a solar plexus that, when hit in the right spot, helpfully forced the diaphragm up to expel what air was in the lungs while temporarily paralyzing the muscle, preventing another breath from being drawn immediately. Such as a nose that makes a very satisfying _crunch_ when flattened across a face. Such as nerve endings that, when overtaxed, decide that enough was enough and shut the body down in self preservation.

Taking deep breaths to steady himself, Kyn slowly straightened as he observed the three bodies, contenting himself that all would be fine with a few days' bed rest. As he sniffed and rubbed an arm across his face to wipe off the worst of the rain, one figure approached while the others remained standing where they were, gawking.

"Bravo," Fei declared in dulcet tones as sweet as honeyed nightshade, her hands emerging from the cloak long enough to give three, measured claps before they flicked the water away with a practiced, elegant gesture and disappeared back within the garment's depths. "A new champion has emerged from the rough. I am Duke Aisner Se'Fannouel's daughter, Mennifei Arlien Se'Fannouel." She stopped, standing by the unconscious Stef's shoulder, close enough to touch if Kyn had so wished. "May I have the honor of your name?" she prompted after a moment of silence.

Kyn blinked rain from his eyes, and tilted his head. Though the hood still more than half shadowed her face, he received the strange impression that he already knew her, somehow. Her skin would be as flawless as the glimpses hinted at, her features sculpted as if by mortal intent rather than nature's chance. Her hair would be half-caught up in elaborate twists, held by silver combs and pins. Her eyes would be hazel, a shade so light that they would burn amber in the sunlight - and glitter with a cold malevolence that a snake would envy. It was _she_ his Foresight had been warning him of, not Stef, nor any of the others. Hiding the thrill of mixed premonition and anticipation that shivered down his spine, he wiped back his hair and belatedly drew his hood over his dripping locks, rolling his dampened shoulders uncomfortably beneath the cloth. "No."

The perfect mouth dropped in an 'oh' of surprise as he turned away, intent on finally finishing his trip to the Healer's Collegia. For all that the others were unwittingly frozen in the same tableau as Fei, one, at least, managed to finally shake himself loose and quickly scamper to Kyn's side. Not before he grabbed the thoroughly soggy and mud-slicked cap, however.

"I-I can't believe you just did that!"

Kyn winced, throwing a dark look toward the too eager voice, not even breaking out of its higher registers yet. However, when he finally laid eyes on the chubby, baby-round face and its innocent blue eyes, surrounded by a mask of mud and mulch and potential bruises, he discovered that he had made yet another mistake in a long string of ones. According to his Foresight, this boy, whoever he was, was important as well. He was being slowly and steadily surrounded by Fate.

"Where are you going?" the boy continued to pipe irritatingly, seemingly blind to the fact that his cap was by now ruined as he tried to brush off the worst of the brown clots.

Kyn didn't reply, merely picked up his pace, even more eager to be away from the place on Sianni's unusually subdued note that people were on the way. 

All in all, he was in a properly miserable mood by now. And if he had recognized the hero worship in the boy's eyes for what it was, it might have gotten even worse.

* * *

Nadia surveyed the twin, dripping messes that occupied one of the cots in the mostly deserted Healer's Hall, and looked very displeased. Kyn was on the verge of sympathizing...until she opened her mouth.

"You," she accused, removing one fist from where it had been planted on her hip to jab a finger at Kyn. "You're trying to make my life difficult, aren't you?"

Before he could do more than start to scrounge up a frown for her, Brin - who had introduced himself as Trader Cambrian Cygnet's son, along with a host of other uninteresting information - helpfully informed, "Oh, it wasn't his fault, madam! You see, there were these bullies, and - " 

Nadia held up a hand with a slightly pained look, and Kyn was in danger of sympathizing again until he realized that Brin bothering Nadia meant Brin - or Nadia, for that matter - not bothering Kyn. Unfortunately, the healer had specific goals in mind and wasn't about to allow herself to be distracted. Sighing, she asked bluntly, "How many were maimed or killed?"

Kyn gave her a look of mixed hurt and disdain at her lack of confidence in his skills and Brin laughed uncertainly, looking as if he was wondering why they did not exactly act as if the question were a joke. "None," Kyn answered flatly, rubbing his ear when a wandering trickle of water from his hair began to itch. "Why don't you just take care of him and then shove him out the door?"

Nadia gave him a withering look while Brin looked crestfallen, and Kyn was further mystified when she alternated between disapproving glares for him and hopelessly sappy looks for the boy. "Don't mind him, Brin," she crooned, fetching a damp towel to wipe away the worst of the mud and looking over what damage had been done. "He's just a regular bastard with a lump of coal for a heart; let me fix you up so that you can get back to your room and be warm and dry as soon as possible." Brin sniffled and nodded and let her fuss over him while Kyn rolled his eyes.

Eventually, Nadia pronounced the boy fit to walk out on his own. Brin thanked her prettily, bowed to Kyn with a mumble of thanks and averted eyes, and left the healer's hall at a shuffle. As soon as the boy was out of earshot, the healer rounded on Kyn with a swiftness that made him wonder if the ability to switch moods instantly was another Gift that she possessed. "What sort of demon are you treating him like that! And there are far more tactful ways of getting someone to leave than that."

Kyn shrugged unconcernedly, checking on the dampness of his collar before sighing and letting the cloth settle again. "What would be the point? You can't discuss me in front of him, so he needed to leave. And how else am I supposed to treat him? I didn't ask for him to follow me."

"You know, that's just your problem. You just don't care about anyone or anything, do you?" Nadia continued to rant, though the words had taken on the tired feeling of something that had been worn into meaninglessness with repetition. Kyn let her go on, tuning her out with practiced ease and holding still as she laid her fingertips on his forehead. 

As he was preparing to drop his shields, however, he belatedly realized that she had fallen silent, and looked up to see her giving him the most peculiar look he had yet seen on her face. "What?" he asked suspiciously.

"Your...your hair..." she mumbled, brows furrowing as she leaned over him to peer closer.

He reflexively leaned back the same distance, bracing a hand behind himself when he was in danger of toppling over. "What?" he repeated a little more waspishly, unconsciously pushing his chin out in belligerence as he tilted his head back to keep her from looking any closer.

"Hold still," she snapped, reaching out to tilt his head down again, brushing a hand through his mop to make it stand on end.

To better see the roots, he realized. He had forgotten about them.

"You're a redhead," Nadia finally breathed as he gave in and let her stare as much as she wished.

"So?" he muttered, self consciously hunching his shoulders and shrinking away from her after she had had her fill of gawking.

"I..." Nadia closed her mouth with an audible click of teeth and tried to shrug nonchalantly. "Nothing. I mean...I guess it shouldn't be that big a surprise, with your complexion and those freckles...I just never thought that it might...I just never thought it actually _was_ different. Why did you dye it?"

"Because Master told me to."

She stared at him. He stared back. Finally, she folded her arms and grumped, "Your standard stock answer. Can't you think of anything more imaginative than that?"

"It works, doesn't it?" he shot back.

Rolling her eyes ceilingward, she dropped the subject and peremptorily laid her fingers on his forehead again. "Shields, please," she muttered. Little more than a formality, considering the thinness of them, but it was a courtesy along with various others that the Heralds indulged in at every turn.

Smirking, he dropped them. The smirk faded as time passed though, and when he found himself glancing toward the nearest candle for the second time to check on its length, he finally asked, "What's wrong?"

Nadia started, as if she had just been woken up from a light doze, but the accusation died on his lips as she took a step back and looked down at him with a small frown of worry. "I don't know," she admitted.

"You...don't know," he echoed back flatly.

She shook her head, not noticing or not caring about the sarcasm lacing his words. "No. Every time I see you now, you're different - your _body's_ different. Not completely of course, but just enough that I'm growing...a little concerned."

His eyes narrowed. "Different how? Concerned how?"

She shook her head as she wandered to one of several tables and cabinets scattered throughout the hall, 'stations' that contained necessities for general examinations and prescriptions. "Well, everyone has a base template, but within certain limits, it can vary. A person will feel different to me, for instance, if they're exhausted or sick than when they are in perfect shape and health. You're still within those limits, but you're swinging between different states far too much. You're young, so your resilience is pretty high. But you can't keep going on like this. It's still three or four days before you're supposed to officially check in with me, isn't it?"

"I just had a headache today," he muttered the excuse, looking pointedly at one of the gloom-clouded windows. "The weather must be affecting me."

There were clinks of glazed pottery and rustles of paper packets as she sorted expertly through the supplies. "It's as if your body's still trying to find its balance, but all it ends up doing is seesawing more and more out of synch."

And he knew exactly why. So, the only remaining concern is... "What are the long term consequences if this continues?"

She turned a quick frown on him, her hands momentarily stilling. "Kyn, you can'tcontinue like this."

He met her gaze levelly. "What if it does?"

She leaned a hip against the table's edge, hand flattening on its surface. "You don't understand, Kyn. I said _can't_. It could lead to permanent damage...or worse."

"Why? What's different now? I thought you said I've been practically raised on these substances."

She shook her head in frustration. "I know what I said! But I've never encountered or heard of such a long-term case as this - what _should_ have happened was that you would continue to experience the symptoms of withdrawal for a while, but you'd eventually find an equilibrium again. It was dangerous for the first few weeks, stopping cold like that, but I helped with the rough spots and you should have eventually been able to work it out on your own. But you're not. It's as if..." She paused in mid-syllable, and her expression became suddenly, ominously blank. "It's as if you were still being drugged," she finished after the pause.

He didn't respond, running through a myriad of likely explanations, and finding nothing that would satisfy himself, much less her.

"That's it, isn't it?" she spat, anger suffusing her face. Kyn found himself distantly realizing that, for all her bluster, he had never seen her truly furious until now. "You're still hooked on them! Where are you getting them?" she hissed, the relatively public area the only thing keeping her voice down as she advanced, making him lean back to keep their gazes locked. "I'd pitied you at first, thinking what sort of monster would be so desperate to maintain their grasp on someone that they would willingly addict a child to substances like that, but if I find out you've been _willingly_ - "

Enough was enough. He clapped one hand over her mouth, the other snaking around to the back of her neck and locking her in that position - and tightening his grip just enough to let her now in just how vulnerable a position she was in right now. "I do not need your pity," he said softly, his own ire kindled as he glared into her wide eyes. "And any arrangements I am involved in are none of your concern." Then he released her.

She stumbled back, two spots of color sitting high on her pale cheeks. "I can't believe a Companion would Choose someone like you," she whispered.

Something inside him tightened into a hard knot. "Don't drag Sianni into this."

"Why?" Her initial fright pushed aside by unreasoning spite, she continued in an increasingly shrill voice, "Could it be that you actually _care_ what she thinks of all this? Stars above, does she even know what's going on?!"

How could he explain it to her? That Master was - had been - _everything_. And now they were asking him to throw it all away, to cast his lot with strangers? Strangers he had wronged? On the say-so of a _horse_? A horse who was so inexplicably, impossibly generous that he was sometimes afraid of touching her for fear of dispelling the dream? Sianni was something wholly outside of his experience, and he might have accepted the unconditional altruism and kindness - and yes, love - from her and not the Heralds because she wasn't human. She was _allowed_ to be perfect. 

Except that he was Master's creature. He would do anything in the world to keep her apart from _him_, even if it meant he could only dream of what could have been.

"How can you do it?"

He blinked, abruptly realizing that he had never replied, merely stared blankly at her, and in that time the healer's own expression had softened into puzzlement as she calmed. "I beg your pardon?"

Nadia waved a hand vaguely. "Cut her off like that. I've been in the collegium for nearly half my life; I know what it's like between a Herald and their Companion. I _envied_ such a bond as they have..." The slight tremble in her voice made Kyn wonder for how long she had been jealous of the Heralds, and when she had finally accepted it. He wondered if her lifebond had been the only thing to ease the ache of want. "But you...how can you find it in yourself to reject something like that? To keep her out...and how could she let you do so?"

He abruptly stood, slinging up his raincloak at the same time and giving it an extra shake to fling off the remaining water that had not dried. "If you don't mind, I have some studying to do," he said stiffly. "And from what I'm getting from Sianni, someone wants to talk to me about the fight."

Nadia's face clouded, and she looked ready to push the issue until he fastened the cloak at his neck, threatening to leave - with or without the medicines. Jaw and fists tightening, the healer told him curtly to wait and finished extracting and mixing herbs, handing the packets to him while relating instructions in terse sentences.

Turning as soon as he had everything - he wasn't about to give her another chance to start prying at him with her curiosity again - he still felt compelled to say quietly, "I would appreciate it if you would not mention anything about my condition to anyone. Including Sianni."

He could all but feel the waves of frustration rolling off of her and beating against his back. "Why should I? It's not as if you've managed to make me like you enough to do you any favors."

He turned just enough to give her an acerbic smile. "Put some of that healer's empathy to work, or whatever pity you have left. It doesn't matter. But if I remember correctly, there's still something going on out there that has even Alberich nervous - and it seems Master and myself are your most direct links."

Her nostrils flared as her control was tightened another notch toward the snapping point. "How _dare_ you. You would use the queen's life as a bargaining chip for the sake of keeping your addiction a secret?"

His smile faltered before growing even colder. "If that's how you wish to see it. But if you cut off the only hold Master has over me, then you lose your hold on him. If he doesn't arrange for me to be killed outright, he most definitely will not have anything more to do with someone he can't control. Then, you will be left with nothing to help your precious queen." Breaking their locked gazes, he hurried for the door, discontent at how the conversation had gone and the thoughts that had been dragged up because of it making him tremble enough that he was afraid he might be detained further, by either Nadia or another well-meaning healer.

* * *

"Mennifei."

There was an odd note to Master's voice when he pronounced the name, as if he both detested and delighted in the syllables. Kyn shifted uncomfortably, but remained silent as he waited for the man to regather his thoughts from memories.

A short, self-deprecating chuckle, and Master beckoned. Reluctantly, Kyn leaned closer, taking shallow breaths in an attempt to keep most of the curling smoke floating between them from entering his lungs. But it was hard. Not only because of its proximity, but because he craved it, felt the need almost as a physical pain. Something which he was sure Master knew - and counted on. 

"Keep an eye on the girl," Master said, in confidential tones and a gleeful half-smile twisting the untouched side of his face. "Watch who she's with, what she does, learn how she thinks. But most of all...watch for her father, the duke."

The duke. Kyn shivered at the sound of the two words, a vague dread creeping into the hollow pit his stomach had become. "How do you know that the duke will come?"

"Oh, he will," Master chuckled again mirthlessly. Gathering himself, he prepared to leave, not bothering to explain himself and confident that Kyn would question him no further. "Oh, one more thing..."

Kyn stiffened at the too deliberately nonchalant tone, the beginnings of a tension headache rapidly advancing to full-blown migraine. "Yes, Master?" he tried to reply just as casually.

The man took his time, rising to his feet and rearranging the rags cleanly about him before the hooded outline of his head turned down to eye him. "How are you feeling these days?"

Kyn flinched as if he had been slapped, eyes flicking up reflexively toward the hood's opening before falling quickly down to the ground again. "I...I am...enduring."

A soft, wheezing laugh, and the cane was brought up carefully to turn his head gently to one side and then the other. "At least you have not forgotten that much. I can objectively admire a half-truth, but I will not tolerate outright lies." A beat to let the words sink in, and then he asked carefully, "Does the healer know? You're not reacting as you should."

Closing his eyes, Kyn sighed. Of course, if Nadia had found out about Master, then it would only balance things to have Master confront him about the healer in the same week. "She...knows I'm being supplied with...something."

A moment to let his words sink in, and then the hood dipped in a nod. "Suggest to her that she will only do more harm than good by interfering. This is not something that she can just 'fix'. I cannot have you hampered or otherwise incapacitated by her fumbling about."

Kyn bowed his head in a half-nod, accepting the order, and was surprised to find that a small part of himself felt disappointed that things were returning to their original order. That he would soon be, once again, firmly under Master's sway. As his head remained lowered, Master seemed to be satisfied by the unspoken assent, and the tap of the cane soon faded away. Numbly, Kyn counted twenty heartbeats more before he slowly tipped the bowl over, stood, and ground out the remaining embers with his heel. Taking a deep breath, he looked around, and then wandered back to the alley's mouth. One hand grazed dirt-streaked walls as he walked, helping him maintain a balance that always seemed at its worst immediately after his sessions with Master. Pausing and blinking at the brighter, unobstructed light gracing the main throughway, he measured the time by the sun's angle and then began the shuffle back to the collegium.

His report had been longer than usual, what with the recent incident concerning the noble youths, and Master had been especially interested in Fei and Stef and their relationship to each other. Kyn's absence might very well be noted by his unofficial guards this time, but he couldn't dredge up enough concern to care. He had managed to strike a balance between everything and everyone; it was one that was dangerously precarious, but as of this moment, he was safe, so long as nothing else entered to upset it. The Heralds could not move against him or Master. Master still needed him and seemed willing to put the past behind so long as he remained vigilant. He might have enough leverage with Nadia to finally get the awful fight over who owned his body to be suspended without endangering Master's position further -

"Kyn!"

His head whipped up at the sound of his name, called out in a horrifyingly familiar voice. Wavering, he passed a hand over his eyes as if what he was seeing was a vision he could wipe away. How in the world had Brin found him? And _why_?

The boy was dodging through the steady stream of shoppers and pedestrians with awkward grace, what looked like a half-eaten meat bun dripping juices over one hand and a clumsily wrapped sweet bun in the other. The vague thought that he might be able to pretend he hadn't heard the boy's call and duck out of sight was soon banished when Brin looked unerringly toward him, catching his eye and smiling broadly. "Kyn!" he called again as if there wasn't only a dozen feet separating them, and Kyn straightened, bracing himself.

"What?" he asked in the most unfriendly tone he could muster when the boy slowed to a stop, and had the dubious satisfaction of seeing Brin withering before his expression almost immediately.

"I, uhm," he stammered, ducking his head and shuffling his feet before mutely shoving the sweet bun toward Kyn.

Kyn looked down at the dessert and blinked.

"Y-you haven't eaten yet, have you?" Brin mumbled, shifting his weight yet again until Kyn wanted to just reach out and hold him still. "I mean, not that I've been spying or anything, but I've taken peeks and I know you don't always remember to take care of yourself and today you didn't go by the kitchens or even by any of the - "

Kyn's eyes widened and he placed a fingertip over the boy's lips, silencing the babble. "Spying?" he asked quietly. "Peeks? How long have you observed me?" Why hadn't he noticed the boy following? Was he slipping that badly?

The tips of Brin's ears flushed red as he ducked his head even lower, shoulders hunching until Kyn could have sworn they were nearly level with the top of his hair. "Well, s'only...couldn't quite...practice...y'see..." he mumbled.

Kyn leaned close and commanded softly, "Repeat yourself. Clearly."

Brin squirmed, huffed a sigh, and relaxed just enough to mumble a little louder, "It's only been the last three days, and it was only a few seconds at a time while you were outside, but...well, the teachers said I needed extra practice with my Gift anyway."

"And what, exactly, is your Gift."

Brin glanced up at Kyn through a straight-cut forelock of wheat-colored hair, round as a bowl, and quickly looked down again. "Farsight."

Kyn slowly straightened, feeling a vague relief that he hadn't failed to notice the boy because Brin had been nowhere near him when he had been 'spying', but also a growing alarm at the implications of what he had been doing. "How were you able to find me with your Farsight? I thought you needed a focus."

"I...I kind of do. I mean...well, ever since you took down that big bully Stef...I really admire you."

Kyn closed his eyes. "How long ago was the last time you...'peeked'."

Brin's brow furrowed before he looked up with innocent blue eyes and said, "I think...less than half a candlemark ago. When you were talking to that beggar."

Chilled, Kyn's eyes snapped open and he abruptly took a hold of the boy's elbow, ignoring Brin's startled yelp of mixed pain and surprise at the harshness of his grip, dragging the boy bodily after him as he began to make his way back to the collegium. 

"W-where are you going?" Brin asked with a tremor of belated worry, juggling his hold on the buns until he had a firmer grasp at the cost of sticky fingers.

"We are going to have a private chat," Kyn said, answering the question obliquely as they passed through the less populated walks around the residences surrounding the collegium's immediate area.

"Uhm...you can let go of me now, you know. I'm pretty sure I can keep up."

Kyn ignored him completely this time, waiting until they were up to the wall and past the gate, the guard giving them a long, curious look but letting them pass without comment. It wasn't until they were well into one of the many copses dotting the grounds that he finally let the boy go. Huffing, Brin straightened his shirt out as best he could with both hands full, gazing down sadly at the somewhat squashed remains of the meat bun. "What do you think you know," Kyn started without preamble, eyes constantly roving the area, an itch starting between his shoulder blades as he wondered who else could watch him without his knowing. An uneasy suspicion was starting in the back of his mind as to whether this was how Master had always kept an eye on him when he was away on assignment.

Brin took his time, examining the sticky trails of sugar and sauce smeared over his hands, before shrugging slightly. "That I'm probably in big trouble," he finally mumbled.

In spite of himself, Kyn couldn't help the small tug at the corners of his mouth as he turned to look over the boy closely for once. The boy was - cherubic. It was the first and only word that he could find to describe Brin. With his round, sweet face and guileless expression - no wonder Stef and the others had found it irresistible to tease him. And, perhaps, Kyn could forgive Nadia for being so doting over him. Personally, though, he didn't think he would have been able to stand looking at himself in the mirror if he had looked like Brin. He looked...so naive. Sighing, Kyn scrubbed his face with a hand. "Why in the world did you decide to attach yourself to me?" he ground out half-rhetorically.

"Because you stood up for me," Brin said brightly, and Kyn was more than a little disturbed by the gleam in the boy's eyes when he said that.

"I was defending myself, not standing up for you," he pointed out dryly.

Brin shrugged, clearly unconcerned with the details. "You knocked those bullies flat in the space of a few marks."

"I'm not going to be your personal protector."

"I'm not looking for one."

Kyn scowled, eyeing the boy suspiciously. "So, just what _are_ you looking for?"

Brin peered at him as if _he_ was the one who was speaking nonsense. "You...really don't know."

Kyn's smile was frigid. "Humor me."

Second and third thoughts were chasing themselves across his face before Brin straightened, resolve firming along with his beaming grin. "I'm looking for a friend."

A friend. The boy wanted to be _friends_. In his current circumstances, the concept was so inconceivable on so many levels, that he nearly laughed aloud. As he tried to absorb that statement, the silence lengthened, enough that Brin began to look worried and started shuffling his feet again. Kyn finally took pity on him and, remembering Nadia's admonishments, tried to say as gently as he could, "Look. You don't want to be my friend."

"Why?" immediately came the question, all huge blue eyes and hopelessly earnest look.

Kyn gritted his teeth. Did the boy have no sense of self-preservation at all? "Because things happen around me! You thought those nobles teasing you was bad? I'm involved in far, far worse. You might as well throw your lot in with Stef - and I, of all people, should know. One of _my_ Gifts is Foresight."

Brin nodded, looking anything but fearful. "Of course. You're doing some sort of undercover stuff, right? Like in the stories."

He just barely kept from gaping at the boy. Like the stories? Was he after the adventure? "You're crazy," he growled, advancing on Brin. His irritation rose another notch as the boy calmly backed up a step, but looked not at all cowed, faith shining in his face. "You could get yourself killed or worse! You think everything has a happy ending?"

"I know," Brin said in unusually subdued tones, meeting Kyn's angry glare unabashedly. "But I'm going to be a Herald. And that's what Heralds do; put their lives before others. So that other people can have happy endings."

Kyn's hands clenched.

Brin tilted his head in curiosity. "And if you're in the middle of it, isn't it dangerous for you too?"

"It's different," Kyn muttered, most of his bluster deflated by Brin's previous statements though he had yet to fully digest what they all meant to him. Turning away, he made a pretense of checking the position of the sun through the fine net of mostly denuded branches, only a few hardy, shriveled leaves left clinging to them. The holly would be taking over in the manse's garden by now, along with what other evergreen plants that grew there. "I don't have a choice."

"You just think you don't."

Kyn snorted, narrowed eyes sliding toward the boy. "So you've suddenly become the philosophist? How old are you anyway?"

A stubborn look of indignation momentarily firmed Brin's chin. "Fourteen. And I don't see what that has to do with anything. I'm offering my friendship, and my help. If you don't want either, that's your business. But you can't keep me from trying to return the favor you did for me the other day."

Kyn shook his head. "You still don't understand, do you? I did you no favor - either perceived or intentionally. What I have done for you is made sure your life gets very, very interesting - in a way that sane people would run far away from. But only if you decide to persist in this madness." Turning in dismissal, he strode quickly in the hopes of leaving the boy behind to stew in his own thoughts.

But Brin pursued, and his steps pattered softly through the grass just behind Kyn's, unshaken. "Well, things were pretty boring before anyway, and I've still got this extra sweet bun...oh, and in case you wanted to know, I actually managed to salvage the cap, though the feathers had to be thrown away. I couldn't do anything about those, but my mother said she could send those right away and when I sew them in, it'll be good as new again - oh, and mother also said - "

Kyn wondered where his premonition was these days as Brin continued chattering one-sided. It hadn't warned him about this.


	7. The Words Between: part 7

Ok, prepare for many notes. =)

1) I made a small change to part 6; you can read the note appended to the top of it to see what exactly it is I changed. It's relatively minor, but would have been a major conflict with a scene I wanted to include here (and others elsewhere, though I haven't written them yet).

2) I read the last Herald-Mage trilogy x number of years ago, and the Mage Winds y number of years ago. I don't remember _anything_. Thus, I don't know how much is actually known about the history of the herald-mages and their disappearance by 'present day' Heralds or chroniclers. I seem to recall something about that spell of Vanyel's not only chasing away mages, but 'distracting' anyone who wished to delve more deeply into anything concerning magery. If anyone can give me a concrete explanation of that part of the working, I would _very_ much appreciate it. I may have to revise the mention of it in this part if things conflict. (sighs I wish I still had all my books...)

3) Question - Am I going too fast? As I was re-reading my old chapters, it occurred to me that things kept...well, _happening, _with little time for the characters to catch their breaths, much less the reader. So, should I slow down, add more details, add more characters, add more sideplots, heck, add more _plot_? Lemme know, either through the review section or just by dropping me an e-mail. =) Thanks much in advance.

jt@paper-jungle.com

Again, thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who is not only sticking around, but dropping the odd note into the review board. Especially if you've gone through the effort of posting more than once. Rather than filling up the first two screens with notes, though, I've dropped the personal comments down to the bottom of the chapter.

Let the fic continue. =)

* * *

The Words Between - part 7

"Missed."

Kyn tightened his jaw, the tension already long past the aching point, and switched accordingly to the offensive, seeing his chance in Alberich's last lunge to deflect and then riposte, following with bold steps and lunge after swing after swing of the sword.

"Missed."

The calm word came a split second before he saw - no, before he _recognized_ the opportunity for what it was...and which he had allowed to pass by. The rare frustration that he hadn't indulged in since he had been a child coiled in his chest, and he broke the rule of silence in engagement to give vent to it in a sharp cry, the sound lost in the rapid tempo of swords clashing once, twice, three and four times...

"Missed. Missed."

A hard shock shivered down Kyn's arm when he got too close, as the un-Herald unexpectedly rushed forward to lock their blades together, edge skirling down edge with a teeth-aching shriek until the guards themselves tangled. And by then, he knew it was already too late. Alberich's superior strength and extra height providing leverage would easily overwhelm him in such a position. Kyn was - 

"Dead," Alberich proclaimed flatly as his free hand almost casually fisted in Kyn's tunic, pulling him close and angling their locked weapons so that it was a fair wager whether Kyn's throat would be slit by the weaponsmaster's sword or his own.

Kyn pushed away with a savage jerk, breaths uneven, only habit keeping him from hurling his weapon away as Alberich allowed him to escape.

Eight misses. Eight times in which he had the chance to wound Alberich, either lightly or heavily if not mortally, and he hadn't even consciously acknowledged half of them, much less been able to take advantage of them. Instead, he had saved himself, bided his time, waited and waited...until he had run out of time and ruses, and was metaphorically killed.

Alberich wisely remained silence, merely watched Kyn as he paced a small circle once, forced his breathing into a facsimile of its usual pace, and finally faced the un-Herald with as much aplomb as he was able to gather on such short notice. Only then did the weaponsmaster nod and speak.

"At least you recognize them now. Before, not even the openings could you see."

"What good is finally recognizing them if I don't have the time or the reflex to aim for them?" Kyn ground out.

Alberich shrugged, planting the blunted tip of his training sword in the ground and leaning both hands on the pommel. "A sign it is that you are improving, and are capable of adapting. With most, only slight trouble you would have. Already impressive your skills are for your age."

Kyn refused to acknowledge the compliment, heard only the scale to which it was held to and limited by. "My age. But if I encounter someone older? Someone such as yourself, with more experience?"

The man tilted his head, his expression and voice frank. "Then killed you would be. Most likely quickly."

Kyn's eyes narrowed as the weaponsmaster made his point for him, and wordlessly slid into a guard stance.

"No more today," Alberich unexpectedly announced, hefting his own sword but only to slide it into a soft leather sheath for carrying back to the training hall.

His determination interrupted by confusion, Kyn turned to gauge the sun's position through the stable's entrance. "But we're only halfway through our usual session."

The weaponsmaster nodded, holding out a hand and patiently waiting for Kyn to return his sword. "It is time that you join the others in regular practice."

"Why?" Kyn blurted out before the rest of his mind caught up, and he flinched, clumsily thrusting the faux weapon toward Alberich hilt-first as a distraction.

"Frightened?" Alberich asked, half-rhetorically from his lack of surprise when Kyn didn't reply, knowing the weaponsmaster would see through any lie that was attempted, even without benefit of a Truth Spell. "A new experience it is. Interesting it should be."

"Interesting?" Kyn snorted, casting the man a dark look as Alberich sheathed the second sword and slung both over his shoulder. "You seem inordinately eager to see the results. It implies a touching amount of trust." The weaponsmaster paused, giving him a sharp look. He met it with a raised brow. "What?"

Alberich hesitated, before shrugging. "Sometimes, disconcerting hints of another's speech you give. But correct you are. Trust in you I have not, yet."

_Honest, and disgustingly hopeful adding the 'yet'_, Kyn silently sneered.

"Still, require trust in your abilities to stay out of trouble I do not, just in _mine_ to prevent or contain what occurs. And who would be more the fool - in hoping for something better, or thinking change will never come - you or I?"

Kyn flushed, eyes flicking away.

There was little to herald the weaponsmaster's approach beyond his lengthening shadow, and Kyn thought about resisting the tilt of his head back by a callused finger crooked beneath his chin, before giving it up as pointless. He refused to meet Alberich's eyes though, focusing on a bent nail in a rafter as his head was turned this way and that.

"How many lessons in grounding and shielding have you had?"

"Fourteen," Kyn answered flatly, still staring at the nail overhead.

"What do your instructors say of your progress?"

A short pause, and he admitted sullenly, "They make little comment." And it infuriated him, that he could not seem to grasp a concept that all but the most stubborn students have already practiced to relative familiarity. Master had never had cause to complain about his progress in anything, even strict as his standards were, and so it was more than perplexing that he was failing so utterly now. In nearly a month and a half's worth of lessons, he had only learned enough to know that he was the only thing holding himself back.

Kyn could not directly see the un-Herald's frown, but he felt Alberich's confusion keenly when the man stepped back to give the rest of him the same examination as had just been given his features. "It is true, you should have made much more progress by now. But it may be no fault of yours - perhaps not even theirs. Unusual your case is, to say the least."

Kyn's brows knit, and he finally chanced a quick glance toward the weaponsmaster. "Are you saying I might not be able to do this 'grounding' and 'shielding'? Because of what was done to me?" he asked sarcastically. That would be far too convenient an excuse. Still, there was a hint of uncertainty deep within, a small fear that this was something that was truly beyond his grasp. He knew so little of everything; he had little ability to judge what was normal or not, especially when it was applied to himself. Outside of the carefully outlined confines of Master's world, he had found little reassurance in trying to gauge his progress by other people's.

The weaponsmaster's mouth twitched, a touch of amusement that made Kyn feel hot with embarrassment at the implied foolishness of his question. "There is little, I think, that you would not be able to do if you wished to, _faerth._ While no guarantee do I give for my effectiveness in the teaching of anything but combat, there is much in common between the focus needed for grounding, and that needed for sword work. You already notice some things suffer for the lack of control - such as your shielding."

"What are you proposing, then?" Kyn asked suspiciously, head tilting.

"Simply that other avenues of approach you look for on your own rather than waiting for others to show you, should the current ones fail." Alberich swept up his cloak in preparation to leave. "A restlessness hounds you, Kyn, that interferes where unity in action and purpose is needed. There is little peace in you."

Kyn made a sour face at the perplexing statement, following the un-Herald to the door where their Companions waited. While there was no hint yet of the snow that would soon arrive to blanket Haven and the near countryside, Winter was already gaining a firm foothold in the curl of frost across window corners and the gleam of ice touching the edges of dew-laden vegetation in early mornings. Sear and scraggly, the once lush Companion's Field was now a skeleton of dried stalks and naked branches.

"What do you mean?" Kyn was forced into asking, not sure he would be able to puzzle it out for himself. And he had learned early on to ask what might be a stupid question rather than remain ignorant out of pride to, perhaps, fail his next lesson. Embarrassment was preferable to punishment for perceived slackness.

Alberich's brows knit in thought as he searched for an explanation, finally releasing a breath and admitting darkly, "The words slip from my grasp. It is as if...as if you hold little of yourself within when you set your mind to a task. Keep yourself separated, it seems - as if afraid you would not find enough will to complete the assignment should you allow yourself to fully contemplate your motivations." Alberich seemed to search for something more as Kyn remained broodingly silent, trying to understand the sentiment between the halting words, when the weaponsmaster added in low tones, "Not required it may be to learn this particular lesson as of now, but do not put it off indefinitely, even should you manage to succeed in everything without it. There are things waiting for you that I cannot see clearly. And what I do manage to glimpse...disturbs me. Hints give that it would be...highly preferable if you understood yourself in this."

Kyn felt the tingling chill across his skin of blood withdrawing from his face to leave it pale, not knowing whether the shock of unease came from discovering that Alberich too had Foresight, that whatever he had sensed in Kyn's future was enough to worry even the hardened weaponsmaster, or that it was a premonition of his own that had too few details to form concretely yet.

_:Alberich always had horrible sensibilities,:_ Sianni scolded the weaponsmaster obliquely as she rubbed her forehead against Kyn's shoulder in reassurance. _:Leaving someone hanging with such dark words...:_

Kyn unconsciously shifted to tangle the fingers of one hand in the Companion's mane as he watched Alberich and Kantor continue walking toward the training hall. Why were these things happening to _him_? Or, more correctly, _going_ to happen. Was it some sort of divine punishment for his past deeds? On an intellectual level, he could understand that people considered what he had done for Master bad, perhaps even evil. The histories and stories he had studied had made that clear. But just like grounding, he couldn't quite seem to grasp the spirit of the concept, and there was a vague resentment at being judged by standards he had not been taught until well after the fact. Was it wrong to earn one's keep the only way one knew how? To earn the acceptance - if not the approval - of the one figure that remained constant throughout his life?

_:You are not being judged, and you are not being punished, Chosen,:_ Sianni murmured, curving her head over his shoulder in her version of a hug. _ :Fate chose you as an instrument because you are special. Because events require someone with your skills to set things right.:_

"What do I have to offer?" he whispered, fist tightening until he was sure he had pulled out a few strands of the spider-silk mane though she gave no protest. "I am given no master to replace the one refused me. I am not allowed to practice any of the skills that I have been taught to excel in."

_:You do not need a master,:_ Sianni stated firmly. _ :And we merely wish you to learn other ways - to let you know that there are other choices other than what that detestable man has taught you. We have faith - _I _have faith, that whatever you choose in the end, when all that is possible is clear to you, you will make the best decision possible for others, for Valdemar, and especially for yourself.:_

He pressed his lips together into a thin white line, refused to turn his head against her neck, to lean against her solid bulk, and willed the invading tremor from his muscles with sheer determination. "What was it Alberich called me?" he asked to distract himself. "It sounded like 'faith'."

_:_Faerth._ Kantor says that it is an animal native to Alberich's homeland. One known for its ability to adapt to new conditions, to survive in seemingly inhospitable conditions.:_ There was amusement as she added, _:It is also well known as a household pest, for it defies all attempts at extermination and stubbornly refuses to move from its chosen nesting grounds, no matter that houses have been built over it. It simply includes the alien structures as new territory, and seems quite happy about moving in with the new occupants.:_

It was enough to make Kyn smile, however briefly or darkly. "And what _is_ the un-Herald's homeland? He lets an accent slip in if he is intent on something else, and his speech pattern imitates that of a different language."

_:Alberich can speak Valdemaran well enough if he wishes to. Personally, I suspect him of pure laziness - or, if I'm in a better mood, that he's being sneaky and trying to throw people off-balance.:_ She turned her head around to pin one eye on him. _:'Un-Herald'?:_

He shrugged. "Does he not seem like a Herald, but not a Herald? A dark gray uniform, instead of white. A willingness for expediency that I suspect many disapprove of."

Sianni snorted in amusement, dancing to the side a step or two. _:I think he would be amused.:_

"And you have not answered my question."

Sianni looked less amused, but answered readily enough, _:Alberich is Karsite. He was a captain in their army when he was Chosen.:_

Kyn stiffened and then turned to stare hard at Sianni. But when he finally determined for himself that she was not joking, he felt a laugh bubble up inside him, one that he was hard-pressed to suppress but which he managed somehow with only a little loss of dignity. Nevertheless, Sianni gave him a hard look and a none-too-subtle mental prod. He could forgive her the little indiscretion, but only because he would have thought himself a little mad as well if he had been someone else. 

_A Karsite. Valdemar's sworn enemy for generations. Become Herald, and not only that - a weaponsmaster, set with the task of training Valdemar's future defenses. Perhaps there's some hope for me after all._

* * *

Sianni took a step forward to reach for a last tuft of grass that remained stubbornly yellowish-green, cropping it as Kyn stopped three paces from her. An ear swiveled lazily toward him when the throw was flung down and then clumsily spread with a foot. The other joined its mate in orientation when the books and charcoal sticks followed. When Kyn finally followed them and plunked himself down on top of throw and behind books and writing materials, she swallowed and raised her head, nosing one of the texts curiously. _:Did he try to feed you the marmalade jam and banana sandwiches again?:_

Kyn grumped in silence before sweeping up one of the books, pointing it at her in lieu of a finger to emphasize his words. "That boy could make Karse withdraw completely and close its borders off to Valdemar for the next century, just to avoid him." He reconsidered his words, and then added even more sourly, "Then again, they might decide to redouble their efforts, thinking it's too dangerous leaving him running around loose in enemy control."

Sianni snorted, edging another step closer as she graduated up to snuffling his hair, nibbling on the ends.

"Stop that," he said distractedly, trying to lean away and push her muzzle aside. "He asked me why I'm not rooming with the other trainees. He asked me if I ever left the grounds except on errands. He - asked - me," he finished in his most exasperated tone yet, punctuating each word with a shake of the book, "if I had a hobby!" He dropped the book in front of him without opening it, bracing his hands on his folded legs. "I don't know whether I'm more frightened of his curiosity, or the fact that he seems to think I'm too boring."

_:Well, do you?:_ she asked as she happily ignored his warning to desist, moving around to sniff at the back of his collar.

"Do I what? I said stop it - And if you mean a hobby, I'm managing to fill my time _somehow_, aren't I?"

She planted her nose on the crown of his head and took a deep breath. _:Are you going to dye your hair again?:_

Kyn ducked his head and waved his arms over it with a wordless sound of irritation. "Are you even listening - havens! I don't even know why I'm chattering to you like a - it must be Brin's fault. _Everything's_ Brin's fault. No, wait, it's Nadia. Nadia's the one encouraging that, that...I can't even call him anything worse than boy! _That's_ how bad she is. And he is." Abruptly clamping his mouth shut, he resolved not to let another word pass his mouth as he realized just how silly he was beginning to sound and instead contented himself with gnawing on a thumbnail.

Sianni stepped back before one of his wild waves could smack her in the nose, tossing her head with a whicker of amusement. _:Oh, certainly some of it is Nadia's fault, perhaps even Brin's too. But I think I am more liable to thank them than berate them. Besides,:_ she added with a wicked gleam in her eye. _:I think it's kind of sweet how you've taken him under your wing.:_

Kyn froze, then turned a look that he usually reserved for one of Alberich's more humiliating sessions on the Companion. "I think the more appropriate phraseology would be that _he_ has taken _me_ under _his_ wing," he gritted, "whether I want to be there or not. And I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, responsible for _anything _concerning him."

_:No, but you've yet to push him down a well or out a window.:_

"Because my Foresight showed he's important to something," he muttered unconvincingly.

_And isn't that the rub,_ he thought to himself darkly. Instead of chasing the boy off, _he_ had left instead. And why? To spare Brin's feelings? To spare his own? For fear of Nadia if the boy went crying to her? He snorted._ Ridiculous._ Broodingly, he picked up the book he had dropped, opening it up to the marker left halfway through the pages. Master would die laughing if he found out. Either that, or write Kyn off as a complete failure.

_:What's wrong, Kyn?:_ Sianni asked softly, this time moving close merely to place her chin companionably over his shoulder, jewel-bright eyes half-lidded as if on the verge of dozing off.

He stared at the words printed neatly across the pages, a thumb absently tracing the curls of an illumination decorating the upper border of the text. _ :Why am I here?:_ he asked with - to his shame - a touch of frustrated hurt. _:Why did you Choose me?:_

_:Because it was time. Because you were the one.:_

His jaw tightened as he scanned the passages with new interest, flipping quickly through until he had found the one he was looking for. "There," he proclaimed, stabbing a finger downwards at the unoffending words. "It said that the Herald-Mages had gone into decline before disappearing altogether...why?! Why were there no more mages when it seemed Valdemar needed them most? Why did you Companions, who supposedly Choose what Valdemar has need for, _when_ Valdemar has need for it - why did you not Choose more mages?"

_:That is not for me to say. It is simply the way things are, and I trust that whatever power decided that there would be no more Herald-Mages, made the decision based on what was best for Valdemar in the long run. And it didn't turn out so badly in the end, did it? We _know_ certain things...and it is enough that it lets us preserve what we love most.:_

"But it's not!" he cried, before the volume of his own voice shocked him into a little more somberness. Raking his hands through his hair and clutching his head with a frustrated sound, he perched his elbows on his knees, closing his eyes. "I don't understand. I don't understand _why_ I need to understand. It never bothered me before, all the who's and why's and how's when I was with Master...he _discouraged_ it, and now I'm wondering if that wasn't for the best."

_:No,:_ Sianni stated firmly, butting her head against his shoulder hard enough to send him off-balance, even while seated. _:It is a difficult process if you are unaccustomed to it, but growth is a natural thing. Master did you a disservice, curbing your curiosity like that.:_

"But I don't even know myself now," he whispered, catching himself with a hand braced against the throw. "Why do I find myself talking to you more and more, on such insignificant matters? Why do I wonder what I might have called Master otherwise if he had not always introduced himself by that name in my presence? Why was I asking Instructor Killira how the birds manage not to collide in mid-air when they flock over the bushes? Why do I resent the choices given to me?"

_:Because you are lost,:_ Sianni said softly, nuzzling him until he reflexively wrapped his arms around her neck to keep his balance. _:And there is nothing from your past life to help the transition of your trust to something in the new. But though the break is clean, it is necessary...it will help keep things clear, without undue influences.:_

At that, he found his arms slipping away from her. Oh yes, things were very clear. From the Companion and Heralds' point of views, of course. _I'm sure they're all too eager to isolate me from Master's 'influence'._

He could feel Sianni's regard, the burgeoning questions at his sudden distance, when her attention was swayed by Brin's voice floating across the distance, calling out for Kyn. For once, he found himself honestly glad to see the boy, even if it was because of the distraction Brin could provide, rather than for the sake of seeing Brin himself. Pushing away from Sianni, Kyn gave him a spare nod of greeting when Brin trotted up within easy talking distance.

The tow-headed boy returned it absently with a polite bow, which he also repeated in Sianni's direction before facing Kyn again. He couldn't help thinking that Master would at least be impressed by the boy's manners before Brin began a little breathlessly, "I'm sorry to chase you down like this because I know you checked out all those books which I assume you intend on studying, but Fei's wandering around the grounds with her father giving a tour, so..." He took a big breath, finishing wheezingly, "I needed some place to hide."

Kyn stared blankly at him, before venturing slowly, "To...hide?" Perhaps it was the usual swing between hyperactive energy and lethargy. Or maybe it was the sheer contrast of Brin's run-on babble. Or maybe it was just all the mental headaches that the boy brought along with him. Whatever the cause though, Kyn abruptly felt exhausted in just observing him.

Brin nodded eagerly, looking not at all abashed at the cowardly admission. Then again, considering the one he was trying to avoid, Kyn couldn't really blame him. Fei was more than a match for Sten, for all the bully's physical stature. "Oh yes. I decided a long time ago that there's nothing wrong with being afraid of Fei - that it actually shows you have a properly working sense of self-preservation."

Kyn could have sworn Sianni snickered despite her innocent blink and the overwhelming sense of 'horse' she radiated. Casting her a reflexive glare, he shrugged. "And what, exactly, do you think I can do that you came running directly to me?"

"Well...I don't expect you to fight her like you did with Stef, or even get involved in anything on my part..." Kyn imagined that if Brin had his little cap with him, he would have wrung it along with the newly replaced feathers within an inch of its life, "but if Fei's the way she is, how much worse do you think her da's gonna be?"

Kyn shook his head slowly at the almost superstitious dread that had started to creep into the boy's voice. "There was nothing that you couldn't have prevented yourself," he began sternly, already sorting through other likely places on the collegium grounds in which he might avoid Brin and his social baggage when the other's words finally sank in. Fei. And her _father_. The duke. "Her father is here?" he asked quietly.

Brin nodded distractedly, glancing over his shoulder as if waiting for the two to come stalking over the field at any moment, personally looking to fillet him.

Master had wanted him to watch them. Fei had been easy, predictable in her movements and affiliations. Brin had been his source half the time; Kyn was constantly amazed at all that the boy found interesting enough to pay attention to, and often wondered how he managed to find the time to pick up the gossip from one end of the collegium to the other. And for all that the boy thought her the next female incarnation of Ancar, he was more than happy to listen for and pass on her latest triumphs and tribulations.

But Kyn had his doubts about maintaining surveillance on the duke, even for such a short period of time as a visit to his daughter would entail. Just the mention of the man was enough to make the back of his neck prickle. Should he depend on general skulking and third-hand information? Or would a direct confrontation be better?

"Come with me," he abruptly decided, grabbing Brin's wrist and dragging the boy after him. There was no use debating over the matter when he hadn't even caught a look at the man yet.

"W-wait, where are you going?" Brin stumbled after him, making only a few token tugs at the grip on his arm.

Kyn didn't answer, waiting until they were on the nearest walkpath before asking, "Where are they? You said she was giving him a tour?"

Blue eyes grew wide until he could see a rim of white all around them. "Y-you're not actually thinking of...of looking for them, are you?" the boy squeaked.

"I am," he stated unequivocally, turning to glare at Brin. "Now where are they?" The boy swallowed, turned slightly green, and then pointed weakly toward one of the dorms. "Follow if you want, but if you so much as open your mouth..." Kyn left the threat hanging, not even bothering to wait for a sign of compliance from Brin before he turned and strode in the indicated direction. He was honestly surprised as he heard the scuff of gravel only a heartbeat or two later that indicated Brin had taken him up on his offer. Remaining meekly silent, the boy kept pace two strides behind. Satisfied that his natural exuberance was being kept firmly in check, Kyn directed his attention to the building.

Sandrian Hall was the best dorm to room in, or so rumor had it. It seemed that even amongst the righteous Heralds - or whoever had been placed in charge of the rosters - there were ways to grease one's way into a favorable position. It could have been coincidence that Fei was placed in this particular hall, with its backside porch, little awnings and balconies, and cozy rooms boasting all the most modern amenities including fireplaces - but somehow, he doubted it. Not to say that the Heralds would allow any of the dorms to fall into disrepair. Kyn had to give them that much, that they honestly took care of the trainees and students. But there was always something that would place one choice over another, and according to the female population, Sandrian Hall was the top one to be had.

Rounding a wall composed of dense rosewood hedges trimmed into blocky shapes, he had to admit that it held a sort of beguiling charm. Ivy and miniature rose vines had been allowed to twine their way about available banisters and up walls - now brown and faded from the season - the facade freshly painted in a pale, pastel yellow trimmed by a bold blue. Carefully tended flower beds covered the immediate area around the building, punctuated by the odd sculpture or fountain and framed by narrow, wending paths. Three stories high, the architecture hinted at styles that had been predominant two centuries ago, quaintly homey and the very picture of what Kyn supposed a lord's 'country house' might look like in the literature that had been pressed on him.

"They're inside?" he asked Brin, searching the windows for signs of people passing by.

"I...I guess so. They were going inside when I was walking past. And then I ran straight to you." Kyn spared a moment to look back at the boy, wondering if he should be alarmed that trouble seemed to find Brin nearly as much as himself, and that the boy seemed to have developed the habit of making a bee-line for Kyn whenever it did. "Unless they're planning on calling for dinner to be sent up - oh, that's one of the people that arrived with him."

Kyn quickly turned back around to see a short, slender man of advanced age exiting the dorm, waiting expectantly beside the open door with the straight-backed posture and severe expression of a lifelong manservant. His livery consisted of a black tunic and leggings trimmed in purplish maroon, and a shirt of the same red-violet hue, elegantly simple and yet tailored by undeniable wealth. Staring off into space, it wasn't long before he abruptly stiffened to attention, and voices preceded the arrival of Fei and her father.

Mennifei had the sort of hard-edged beauty that displayed best in cold, marble busts of warrior queens, but lacked some essential quality that made her any more approachable than the statues. She bore her burden of fortune well; fully conscious of her worth every waking moment, and confident enough in her position that she felt no need to be grandiose in its display. Rather than flaunting herself and her money until she looked trite and gaudy, she let her disdain and boredom speak for her. If it weren't for the genuine malice and calculating interest with which she viewed everything and everyone, she could have claimed a position of rulership on charisma alone. As it was, she was a walking gallery of lost or ruined potential, all her gifts and talents subtly distorted until Kyn could hardly glance at her without feeling a strange twinge inside.

Her father though...it was clear who Mennifei inherited her mannerisms from, if not her features. He might not be handsome by classical definitions, but he exuded a lazy grace and regalness that would have done a gryphon proud - complete with unsheathed claws and the sharp gleam of a predator in the eyes. Gray touched the dark auburn locks, the hair meticulously coifed, and faint lines radiated from the corners of the hazel eyes, as if from a lifetime of laughter. Kyn received the distinct impression though, that they resulted from something far less innocuous than mirth narrowing the duke's gaze on a regular basis.

"What are you looking for?" Brin whispered, making Kyn start and shoot him a glare.

"Nothing," he hissed, returning his gaze to the duke as the man escorted his daughter from the dorm as if they were exiting their palace, chatting amiably while the manservant fell into step behind them after closing the door. "How long is he staying in the capitol?"

Branches rustled as Brin shrugged, his back pressed against them. "Six days, I think. He had business in the capitol. He might stay a day or two more, to spend time with Fei, and then he'll be traveling down the East Trade Road back to his holdings."

East Trade Road. Something about it tickled the back of his mind before Kyn dismissed it in favor of focusing on the nearing duke and heiress. Stepping fully behind the hedge, he followed their progress with ears and narrowed eyes, watching the flicker of movement through the net of dried leaves and twigs. "What do you know of the duke's business?"

There was a pause in which the pair's conversation became loud enough to snatch the occasional syllable from, Kyn shifting yet again to press himself close to the hedge when they had nearly walked far enough to draw abreast of them. "I don't think it's wise spying on one's elders," Bryn finally whispered timidly.

Kyn nearly laughed out loud, strangling the urge just short of the sound emerging. He opened his mouth, about to retort - 

When the duke suddenly stopped. Frowned, and then turned his head. Ten paces away, he looked unerringly toward Kyn, standing in the shadow of the hedges, and brought his daughter's attention toward the two boys with a soft word and a deeper frown.

As Kyn felt his heart stutter in shock and consternation, Fei turned as well with annoyance plain on her face at the interruption to some anecdote she was relating. Upon seeing them, however, her expression blanked in confusion, before a familiar, feline smile spread tulip-pink lips. "Oh, why, it's my dear friend Kyn and his shadow." Despite their one-time meeting and her studious avoidance of anything connected to the event, she had apparently managed to pick up his name from somewhere regardless. Not too hard, when one was the center of attention of what amounted to high society in the collegium.

How could the duke have detected them? Granted, Kyn had not been actively trying to hide himself, but he also knew enough to be able to position himself with the knowledge of how easily he might be spotted by those he was watching...and at that angle... "Lady Mennifei is too generous with her affections," he said automatically, stepping boldly out of the plant's shadow. 

Inside, he trembled. He knew nothing of the duke. He knew nothing of what the man meant to Master's plans. He couldn't remember a single assignment in which he had been prepared so little on the subjects involved, had been given so few instructions as to how to act. He quailed at the thought of a misstep, of having already tipped some invisible hand with the discovery of his presence, if not his intentions. It was only the latter that pushed him forward, that formed the courtly words drawn from books and tutors and Master's sneering regard, the hope that if he was able to distract and assuage, that no lasting harm had been done. But even as his body went through the practiced gestures of social graces, his mind yammered to him constantly with the 'how'. The man had turned to find him as if expecting him there. Surely he was not Gifted as well...

"Not generous enough, it appears," Fei murmured with a brow lifted like a gull's wing in pleased surprise at the manner of his response, her words low as if spoken in confidence but with just enough of a curl to her lips to indicate that Kyn had been intentionally included in the speculative comment.

The duke revealed nothing at all as he looked Kyn over as blatantly as if he was stock at a horse show, giving Brin the same regard when the boy stumbled after into the wan sunlight, before finally allowing a thin-lipped smile to show itself. "Kyn? You must be extraordinary indeed to have worked yourself so quickly into my daughter's favor. I do believe this is the first I have heard mention of you - and Fei works very hard at keeping me abreast of all the local gossip."

"Father!" the girl mock protested, half-lidded eyes never leaving Kyn and ignoring Brin completely. "I do not lower myself to 'gossip'. I thought you wanted a taste of what the atmosphere is like in the heart of the capitol? I merely pass on the more...colorful bits of local news."

"I am sure the only extraordinary thing is that your daughter appears to have deemed me worthy of her regard, My Lord - ?" He trailed off suggestively, a brow quirked upwards in question after the duke's name even as he began to dip into the customary bow of respect to someone of unknown rank.

"Duke Aisner Se'Fannouel," the man answered as Kyn knew he would, but then did something that he had most certainly not expected. Se'Fannouel extended his right hand in a clear invitation for a handclasp. "I am pleased to make the acquaintance of such a well brought-up young man."

Kyn blinked, was sure his surprise was evident on his face at the uncustomary method of greeting, and absently accepted the waiting hand with his own. He was still wondering at the possible motivation that would drive the duke to such a lowly and personable gesture when -

_Steel, teeth, claws...and the chittering. The mad clicks and squeaks that merged into a single, low, discordant roar of insanity that pried at the edges of the mind like nails on slate. Blades flashed around him, swords and kitchen knives and everything in between, stabbing wildly at shadows...shadows that gleamed with edges white and sharp and which bore blind, hungry eyes within..._

_Circles within circles within circles...no corners, no ends, chasing itself without surcease. The duke, bearing dagger and sword, both blooded, stood within - as Master did. Does...will. The two raised weapons in simultaneous gestures, cried hideous and unknowable words in twinned voices, looked down upon him with identical mad gazes...but the duke stood before him, Master behind, and it was forward that he stepped..._

_Ice banded his chest, stole his breath and made his heart stutter, while his mind faltered before the duke's bloodied and twisted visage...and the living shadows beyond the last circle that hinted at shapes his mind refused to recognize, leering yellow gazes sliding in and out of focus as they waited...so patiently...inched closer with each slow drop of blood that pattered on the ground. He could feel the hot trails winding down the icy surface of his skin, the regards of a thousand alien eyes fixed hungrily on the scarlet paths drawn over their bodies to mix in a slowly growing pool, connected drop...by drop...by drop..._

He would have gasped, if his torso hadn't felt so constricted that he was barely able to draw a natural sip of breath. He might have staggered, if a body hadn't unexpectedly leaned close, a comradely arm thrown awkwardly over his shoulders by someone of a shorter stature. As light and sound rushed in with the harsh clarity that only the real world boasted, Kyn could only blink and try queasily to settle a protesting stomach while sorting the sensations out as fumblingly as a newborn might.

"...my cousin Kyn. Father would never have managed that shipment otherwise, after the pests had their way with the bales. Don't your holdings lie near the border, on the East Trade Road, m'lord? If I remember, that region is favorable toward the growing of rosenthyme."

The duke looked decidedly bemused as he nodded slightly to Brin's stream of words, his daughter less so as she looked up at the sky, back toward the dorm's gardens, anywhere but at them and trying not to fidget in her boredom. "It is indeed," Se'Fannouel murmured. "It is exactly because of that plant that I am in the capitol. Conditions have been ideal this year; I have several bids for this year's harvest which may allow me to expand next year's crop further."

Brin fairly beamed. "Congratulations! Rosenthyme has traditionally been just a luxury because of its fickleness, but with a steady and reliable source of supply..."

Se'Fannouel nodded again, this time with a remarkably genuine smile. "Precisely. You have a remarkable grasp of a rare market, Brin."

The boy blushed in pleasure at the praise, eyes dropping modestly. "Oh no, M'lord. My da - my father's always been interested in the exotic. He didn't want to settle on the traditional, established trade. He's the one who really had the time and energy to research all of the particulars - I'm just trying reassure him that the business will fall into good hands once he retires." 

"I am sure he sleeps easily each night with just that thought."

"Father, we will be late for dinner with Saedil," Fei interrupted peevishly, just managing to smooth out her tone enough to keep it from being an outright whine.

"Yes, Dear," the duke absentmindedly patted her shoulder with unconscious condescension, earning him a hooded glare that contained a surprising amount of real hurt. "I'm staying at the Moon Lady's Inn. If you ever have time to spare from your studies, perhaps I can treat you to a lunch or dinner sometime."

It was a moment before Brin managed to gather enough wits to make an exuberant acceptance of the invitation, smiling fit to split his face in half as the duke tendered a distracted farewell and led a fuming Mennifei away.

"Bright Lady! Kyn, can you believe that?! I just got invited to a private meeting with Duke Se'Fannouel!" Brin crowed as soon as the two were out of earshot, all but dancing in place with his eagerness, wriggling like a puppy. "Da will be ecstatic...if he became broker for the duke - why, we could become lords in our own right from the commissions alone!"

Kyn barely acknowledged him with a wordless sound, all his responses belated and sluggish as if he was subtly out of synch with the world. And perhaps he was. It was quite obvious that he had lost quite a bit of time during the dizzying bout of visions, time which Brin had somehow managed to fill and cover for his lapse by squeezing him out of the focus of the duke's attention altogether. It was a wholly unexpected bit of cleverness and talent that he had hitherto not suspected of the boy.

But the implications of Brin's new ties to the duke, the unrefined potential he had just displayed, was all pushed aside for later mulling by one overwhelming thought: he must kill the duke. The sooner, the better.

* * *

Maphiko - blush With that kind of review, I will most certainly write more. =) I just hope I don't disappoint as things are steadily revealed in the later chapters.

Megan - grins It's good to see you still hanging in there. All in all, it was a truly amazing feat how quickly I belted that one out considering my writing history. Unfortunately, I think I made up for the time I saved on that one by taking up extra days with this part. o.O*

ola - snickers Thank you so much for the support, and I would definitely understand if you don't review every single chapter that comes out. ^_~ Just drop a 'hi' every handful of parts or so to let me know it hasn't lost your interest completely.

haiiro - wiggles happily and then sighs Too bad I can't live off reviews...I wouldn't mind ditching the job and school to write all day long...

drunkenfairy - Oof, that would be a dream come true. =) But I dunno how appreciative she would be if I just dumped the thing into her box one day. _ (Btw, I love that pen name of yours.)

M'cha - You wouldn't happen to also know what they use to refer to minutes and seconds, would you? =P (No, I'm not really trying to milk you of all the information you're worth rather than hieing myself of to the bookstore to look it up myself... eyeshifts) There's so many books out there that make up their own ways of calling units of time and days and weeks...it's hard to keep a track of what goes with who...

LOL. I wasn't really planning for that effect (re: creeping you out), but I can't say I'm exactly displeased either if it's managing to keep you coming back for more. =) As for Kyn's current situation and future...well, Fate (for lack of a better word for now) hasn't even really started with him yet, but rest assured, he isn't going to be thrown in completely unprepared. ;) And my vocabulary comes from nearly a decade's worth of reading in which I averaged about a book a day (yes, I had no life back then - actually, I still don't have a life, even now). Thus, you will find that I occasionally mis-use some words (ones which I inferred the wrong definition for when I was too lazy to get a dictionary) since I didn't learn them the 'proper' way. But I do try to check myself on ones that I'm not absolutely certain of.

Hmm...now that I think of it, maybe my reading at that mad pace accounts for why I can't remember the majority of the stuff I've read beyond half a year ago...backward interference and all that... -.-


	8. The Words Between: part 8

Oh my. It's been a doozy of a few weeks. o.O* But, for better or for worse, here is the next part. =) 

P.S. - A big, enthusiastic thank you to all those who reviewed and replied to my question concerning Vanyel's spell! You were all very, _very _helpful, and enough of the events have been jogged out of my memory, I think, for me to rewrite the scene a little more confidently. sighs Perhaps, in the future, to save me from sounding like a broken record, would you all accept cookies in lieu of repeated thanks?

And, once again, individual replies to some of the reviews have been appended to the bottom.

The Words Between - part 8

Any winds tonight would have been nothing short of biting, and rain might very well have come down as the first snow of the season. So Kyn thanked whatever deity was left who might still be looking down on him favorably that neither were present, with him in only a short, light coat in the middle of the city. In order to reach the back of the Moon Lady's Inn after his last class and before the duke habitually retired to his room, he had had no time to return to his own room for his cloak, the garment forgotten at the day's beginning after a restless night's sleep.

He had to be sure the duke was following his usual pattern tonight. He had to be sure that the duke would return to the inn promptly at sunset, take his supper, and then move to his room to read, write missives, or any of half a dozen other tasks that he had habitually indulged in just before sleep. Today was the sixth day of the duke's stay, and according to Brin after their second meeting, Se'Fannouel's business in the capitol had all been completed. Kyn could not depend on Minnefei's charm keeping the duke any longer than the man had planned - if the girl wished him to stay longer at all, which was questionable at best from her increasingly sour moods after each encounter with her father - and if Kyn was to act, it had to be tonight.

There. Lamps were lit in the third room from the right rear corner of the inn on the first floor, the soft yellow light increasing by turns as someone - most likely Roald, the manservant - touched the wicks of all four lamps with a smoldering taper, turning them up to their highest intensity. Figures passed before the window - there, the duke, and then there, Roald - before the curtains were drawn across, hiding everything but for a soft, rectangular glow outlining the window's casement where the cloth couldn't reach. Satisfied, Kyn pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against, lengthened his strides into a jog, and began to make his way further into the western quarter, pacing the by-now familiar alleys with eyes and nose alert for a particular man-sized bundle or dizzyingly sweet scent.

Tonight was also the time in which he was supposed to meet with Master, a fact that he had viewed with mixed apprehension and relief. He could tell Master what he had Seen, and Master would tell him in turn what he had to do. The burden of the decision would no longer be upon him. And yet...what if Master decided against killing the duke? Kyn knew he should not be pondering the subject so much, that he was yet again committing the sin of trying to predict everything, of letting his thoughts wander and cloud his purpose with suppositions and scenarios and arguments. But he had to admit to himself that Master might have other plans, plans which - for the first time in his life - he might object to. If the duke were permitted to live beyond this night, he might leave in the morning. And if he left in the morning, Kyn would not be able to follow. He held no illusions about the slackened observation provided by the Heralds and Companions over the last months - he would never be allowed to leave the capitol. 

And if he didn't kill the duke, the duke would kill _him_. He had pored over the tantalizing glimpses he had been given in the daytime, and his dreams had been haunted by similar images every night.

There had been a grand hall, draped with the unstirring banners and tapestries of families and clans, steeped in a tradition and history that mocked him with his lack of past or blood relation, as shallow and transient as a rain puddle against a mountain lake. Household staff and Heralds, guardsmen and lordlings, had been herded like stock through long corridors, lured with the illusion of escape while the shadows gathered ever more thickly around the flickering edges of guttering torchlight. Shadows were ever-present; shadows that thought, that hungered, that moved of their own volition to reach longingly for the terror they could sense, already tasting the pain they could inflict. And circles carved within circles carved within circles, arcane symbols of slashing strokes and jagged edges, worn from time and feet and embedded in the very stones, and standing within them...

The duke. With a genteel smile on his face, and false words of regret on his tongue. Wielding a cold, cold blade that carved into Kyn's flesh.

Kyn told himself that he did not fear the duke, who hid himself behind a veneer of civilization and high society, almost ghastly in the contrast between seeming and truth. He insisted that he did not fear the knife, when his first instructor in blades had purposely slid a whetted edge across his arm to teach him its touch. He had long believed that he did not fear death, when nothing but his assignment's completion and Master's bidding had ever held him to life. He would have no regrets to hold him back if it were to abruptly end.

But of what came after death? For himself, for Master, for others? He feared what might be able to follow him past that barrier, especially with the presence of the sentient shadows - already cheerfully flaunting the laws of nature - hovering near and biding their time as if knowing he would not be able to escape, either physically or through death. He feared what might become of Master, who had stood in direct opposition to the duke, with no one to guard his crippled shell while his attention and intellect was turned elsewhere. He feared. With a gut-clenching breath-stealing dread that he had rarely experienced, and which seemed to have managed to become a near-constant companion in the last few days.

_Enough!_ There was no use thinking on such things; it was either too early to tell how they would come to be, or the entire matter would become moot when the duke died. Master was right. All his doubts, all of his mental agony, came from thinking too much. Kyn straightened, back stiffening, chin rising. He would let it all go. Follow blindly as he had in the past. Why sink himself in a morass of circular logic when Master would sweep it all away in the space of a few, decisive words?

It wasn't until he had forcefully set aside all his musings that he slowly realized he had nearly reached the city's outer gates. Stopping, he turned to look behind him, a frown forming on his face. Had he missed an alley? Overlooked some sign of Master's presence in his preoccupation? Trepidation shortening his breath, he hurried through the last few feet, looking up and down the side street to be sure, and then began to retrace his steps.

A quarter of a candlemark later, he let the doubt set in. Or rather, he finally acknowledged the doubt and anxiety that had been hovering in the pit of his stomach ever since he realized that the usual time for the meeting had long passed. 

Master wasn't here tonight. There would be no meeting. Why? Kyn stumbled to a halt, blindly staring at the facing wall of a T-intersection. Why had Master not come? What was he to do now? Was it worth risking Master's wrath if Kyn killed the duke and Master still had need of the man? Surely, from the vision, Master was strictly opposed to the duke? _What am I supposed to do?!_

Breathe. He closed his eyes, sucked in a sharp breath, and held it, consciously retaking control of his body from the rising confusion. Releasing the air again with a soft hiss, he rolled his shoulders, looking around with a clearer gaze, and instinct pushing him to move though he had no clear idea as to what to do next, his hindbrain insisting that he should not remain in one place for too long when visiting uncertain territory, especially with the night deepening. More lights than usual dotted windows and outlined doorways, people still adjusting to the unusually rapid onset of darkness with winter's coming. Nevertheless, it had already grown noticeably 'quieter' as those who functioned strictly with the daylight - or were conservative of lamp oil and candles - took to bed, leaving only the subdued murmurs of a city that hadn't quite acknowledged the dreamlord's influence yet.

It had been two candlemarks since he had left off his observation of the inn. Another one at most, and he knew with absolute certainty the duke would be in bed and all the lamps snuffed. Only half a candlemark later, and the inn itself would close its doors, one of the few that could afford the luxury of ignoring potential customers in the middle of the night for the sake of a night's uninterrupted slumber.

He finally decided that the opportunity was too perfect, the consequences too dire for him to ignore. And shouldn't he take the initiative, if the circumstances were right? He had been trained to act as an independent agent, to improvise with need, given just as rigorous a course in scholastic subjects as the physical for that very purpose - his mind was to be used in the absence of any other presiding figure, and as such, should be honed just as any other tool. That was what Master would want, right?

Or had it been the Heralds? 

Grimacing, he kept his eyes focused grimly before him, resolutely thinking of nothing at all as his feet automatically carried him back to the inn's front, stopping just within the shadows pooling between buildings. There he stayed, never turning away from the Moon Lady's facade until lamps and candles within were gradually extinguished, one after the other. When the level of illumination had died to about what might be expected from only two or three remaining sources, he tugged the coat closed around him, stuffed the hem of his tunic into his pants edge to keep it out of sight, and then hurriedly sprinted across the street to knock demandingly on the door.

There was an irritated grumble in direct response, a low, husky woman's voice calling out, "Hush it, or I'll send you to the havens m'self for waking up the paying customers!"

"I was delayed on an errand," he called back, pitching his voice a touch higher than its usual octave, hunching down so that he appeared smaller and hoping that the poor lighting and the coat would cover the telltale uniform of a trainee. The pants alone were generic enough that any boy could have sported them outside the collegium grounds, and the tunic and shirt itself were now out of sight. "Let me in! The master'll be lookin' fer me!"

More grumbling, in which the sounds of a latch being fumbled with were heard on the other side and the door abruptly pulled open. A slender, rather well-shaped woman - even if her features weren't particularly pleasant on the eyes - leaned out to squint suspiciously at him, raising up a candle in its holder to complement the wan light from the street lamps. "And what sort of errand would send a boy out halfway through the night, hm? I've a mind to just leave you out here for your master to find. Maybe then you'll get the thrashing you deserve for all the racket you're raisin'!"

Kyn sniffed, rubbing his nose against his shoulder - in the same process, ducking his head away from the spill of light, no matter how dim - and shifted agitatedly from one foot to the other. "That'd be my master's bizness," he muttered. "And I wouldn't've caused such a ruckus if you'd just let me in, right? You haven't even locked the place up yet! M'lord's payin' good money for the rooms - "

The proprietress blew out a frustrated breath and abruptly withdrew from the doorway, swinging the bronze-strapped, one-piece oak door aside with her so that a space just big enough to admit him was revealed. "All right, y'scamp! Just move yourself straight to your master's rooms - and if I hear one more peep out of you, I'll toss you out on the middens heap behind the kitchen m'self, y'hear?"

He didn't wait for a second invitation, and pushed his way past almost before the woman had started speaking. The main room in which customers were invited to sit and eat or drink was flanked by two stairs on either side, underneath which was a hallway each leading to the rooms on the first floor, all centered about a wide fireplace overhung by a pastoral scene by a local painter who had won himself no little renown over the last few years. Perfectly symmetrical, everything was scrubbed and oiled until wood glowed with a satiny finish and brass winked coyly at even the most timorous glance of light. The Moon Lady catered to only a certain class of society, and she was not shy about letting this be known.

Kyn took only enough time to gain a general knowledge of the layout before ducking into the nearest passageway to the left, more concerned with appearing as if he knew where he was going than in actually finding his way yet. One more turn to the right, and then he stopped, tilting his head and holding his breath as he listened for the proprietress' movements. There were sounds of bottles clinking, knickknacks being straightened or moved around, and then the shuffle of slippers that headed across the room and started up one set of stairs. He counted slowly to thirty beneath his breath before letting some of the tension drain from his shoulders, loosening them with a shrug as he looked around.

From the constant movement of supplies, trash, and personnel in and out of the kitchens throughout the day, he knew they were in the back. While elaborate in design and decoration, the Moon Lady was relatively small, and so he began loping farther down the corridor he was in, confident in the fact that the inn's layout couldn't be too complicated if rooms and passageways were to all fit inside its boundaries. Intuition proved correct where specific experience was lacking, and the free-swinging double-doors that allowed servers to pass through with both hands filled by laden trays soon came into sight. They were unsecured - perhaps to allow guests suffering from insomnia to retrieve a late-night snack should the urge come to them? Still, he fully expected the back door leading out into the alleys to be locked; it should not be so unusual for the inner ones to be left open in that case. Even if the owners were worried about the silverware, considering the Moon Lady's clientele, either it would have been preposterous to accuse a customer of filching them, or financially and socially damaging. There were also plenty of opportunities for any of a customer's entourage to sneak a fork or spoon into a pocket throughout the day, when mealtimes were served according to an occupants' whim without worrying about after-hours thieving. The matter rationalized to his satisfaction, he eased himself through while minimizing the swing of the pinewood slabs afterwards, immediately stopping when he found himself in nearly complete darkness. The corridors had been punctuated by the occasional window, allowing the half moon's light or the street's illumination to find its way in. But here, there was only the faintest of glows filtering in around the curtained windows on the far side.

Still, it might be enough, as Kyn took his time examining the silhouettes of scores of racks, shelves, storage bins and all the accoutrements that they held packed all around him. Sliding one foot gingerly before the other, he let his hands slide gently across the counter space, flutter over a wall mount, hesitate on the knobs of a line of drawers. Yes, there...his fingertips slid across the familiar feel of cool metal, flat and smooth, tapering down to a sharpened edge. First choice was too unwieldy. The second and third too small and too thin. But the fourth...the fourth would do. Sliding it carefully from its setting, he hefted its weight and tested its sharpness all along its length before carefully stepping back the way he had come.

Outside, he took a long look down either end of the corridor, reorienting himself in relation to the duke's room. There was the briefest hint of hesitation, the beginnings of a doubt that he ruthlessly squashed. There was no room for either when on assignment. Shifting his hold on the knife, camouflaging its length along the inside of his forearm in a reversed grip, he walked casually down the hall, turning the corner and counting the doors from there to the one that would lead to Se'Fannouel's. Standing right before it, he tilted his head, held his breath, and listened.

Twenty heartbeats. Thirty. Fifty.

When a full minute had gone by with no sounds detectable, Kyn released the air he had been holding, reached out, and took a hold of the door's ornate brass handle. He paused at the unexpectedly warm feel of it, its slick, polished surface feeling almost wet to his touch, reminding him uncomfortably of blood - 

Blinking, he shook himself, unsettled enough to actually look down and check that the surface of the bronze metal was indeed unmarred. As soon as he did, he silently berated himself for such superstitious foolishness, all the more vindicated when the spell seemed to be broken and the alloy felt as chilly as it should be. Irritated at himself and the duke for putting him into such a state, he pushed the door in without a second thought and slid inside.

Only then did he wonder why the door had not been locked.

Only then did he wonder if the odd sensation when he had taken a hold of the handle was actually a premonition.

Only then did he wonder if, perhaps, he should be less worried about failing in his self-appointed assignment, than of ambush.

"Did you really think you could come within thirty feet of me without my noticing?"

Kyn's breath froze in his chest at the softly uttered words, his hand tightening on the haft of the knife though he dared not move anything else as his eyes frantically searched the corner from which the duke had spoken.

The man unfolded himself leisurely from the seat he had dragged into the far end of the room, setting a closed book on the edge of the desk nearby. The man loved his posturing, holding on to a book in the dark. "Really, I do wonder if something other than just his looks was damaged. Jenner was always so fastidious with the details; it's unlike him to forget something as simple as this."

Kyn edged back a step. He couldn't help himself. The duke had known he was coming...had he been mistaken? Were the visions pointing at _now_, rather than some vague moment in the far future?

"Not one for words, are you, boy? But I suppose you wouldn't be. Jenner never did take interruptions well." Se'Fannouel took three measured steps toward him, stopping as soon as Kyn drew back. In the dim landscape of flattened silhouettes produced by what moonlight managed to creep around the curtains, he had to depend on his ears more than his eyes for what moods the duke might be in. "Why are you here?" Se'Fannouel asked, either impatient or looking to provoke a response. "I would have thought he had given up by now. He really shouldn't waste his remaining years on a silly vendetta like this."

Kyn resisted the urge to ask what the duke was speaking of, to ask if the duke had mistaken him for someone else or if Jenner really was who Kyn thought he was. Concentrate on the assignment...let Se'Fannouel talk and distract himself. All Kyn needed was one unguarded moment...two steps closer, and a moment of inattention...

The man slid another foot nearer. "Answer me." Impatience had wound itself through the arrogance. "What does Jenner want? I dispatched his first two pets over a decade ago and barely noticed the attempts. He should know by now it is futile."

"Pets?" The word was drawn from him involuntarily, and Kyn bit his tongue sharply enough to make his eyes prickle at the small pang.

A thoughtless motion of the hand brushed the subject aside. "Your predecessors, you might call them. Jenner has been playing this game for a very long time, and quite frankly, it is beginning to bore me."

No distractions...no distractions...ignore the little morsels of information being scattered about like so much chaff and remember why he was here...

The shadow of the duke's head tilted. "But you are different somehow. I do not know why yet..." He took the last step forward that Kyn had been waiting for. "But I am going to find out." 

And as the sound of the last syllable had yet to slip from the man's lips, Kyn lunged forward, snapping the knife blade out in a curving arc aimed for the duke's throat.

Except...something happened. There was the briefest of moments in which his vision went white - or was it black? - and suddenly, he realized he was staring up at the room's ceiling. He tensed - or tried to. He felt the ghostly sensations of a rug beneath his back, the hard knots of tassels and then the un-giving wood-paneled floor. He received the vague impression of the fingers of his right hand being pried at, a weight lifted from it...the knife! The duke had taken the knife! And when he tried to gasp, eyes growing wide...he suddenly realized that he was completely helpless. Everything felt as disconnected and...'uncomfortable' as if his body was a set of ill-fitting clothes he had borrowed from someone else. The pitiful attempt he made to retain possession of the makeshift weapon resulted in a soft thumping sound as his fingers curled convulsively and the limb thudded against the floor in confusion, and someone else's hand pressed it down with surprising gentleness.

"Now do you see?" Se'Fannouel whispered, Kyn squirming uselessly when the duke's voice sounded but a few inches from his left ear. Turning his head laboriously, he could see the man crouched beside him, peering down with an expression of - curiosity? - that could barely be made out in the dimness of the room. "Jenner truly has taken leave of what senses he had left, sending you to me. Using Vinsen's progeny, those of his blood? It puts you directly into my hands as nothing else can." With economical swiftness, Se'Fannouel lifted Kyn's right hand, pulling back the coat and shirt sleeves to bare the wrist and forearm, and wielded the kitchen knife like a seasoned butcher. Kyn barely felt the edge's kiss that sliced skin next to and across old scars, blood dark as ink welling up immediately like oil slick on the surface of a marsh. The duke shifted his grip, dipped his fingers in the sluggish stream, and then touched them to Kyn's forehead, murmuring something with a lilting, liquid accent.

Jenner. Vinsen. Progeny and pets. The names and terms swam in Kyn's head as he struggled to rouse himself, staring at the shadow hunched over him, trying to stifle the shrill voice of panic and largely succeeding until he felt a tentative touch - but not on his skin. Somewhere inside, where only himself and Sianni resided. This time, the cry rose unimpeded as a strangled croak while he tried to squirm away in unreasoning terror, scrabbling for something, anything, mentally or physically, that would bar that intrusion. _No! Stop - get out!_ he snarled, grasping for the lessons he had tried so hard to learn but which had stubbornly eluded him, as they eluded him now when he most had need for them, leaving him vulnerable to that alien touch.

"There is no use in your struggle, Kyn Mrr'Thaine. Save your strength," the duke murmured in a preoccupied tone, and still that touch persisted, grew more concrete even, nosing through his thoughts like a blind, searching worm.

_No!_ he howled, in his desperation turning to the one source that he had consistently shunned until now. _Sianni!_

"She can not help you," Se'Fannouel's implacably calm voice overrode his thoughts. "You waited too long, Mrr'Thaineson; what defenses you had were laughable. There is no one who can hear you now except for me, so you might as well relax and save yourself some discomfort."

"Nuh - " he tried to speak, but his tongue and mouth behaved as foolishly as his limbs had, and he gave up the effort in favor of sending his darkest glare toward the man. _No. It can't end like this. It's not supposed to happen this way._

"Oh really?" The purr seemed to shiver through his very skin, oddly doubled in his ears and in his head, an almost sensuous musing that curled around his mind and batted playfully at some stray memory that wandered through the psychic landscape. "And would you care to elaborate...ah, yes, here we are. Most intriguing, what Jenner has done; he has certainly grown more imaginative with each attempt and failure. I wonder how much of what he has done has been revealed to you? Did you know your precognitive abilities were induced at least eight years before they were to emerge on their own, perhaps even more? But that little fact carries but limited shock value - perhaps this path will produce something truly exciting..."

No more. He couldn't stand it any longer, that hypnotically low voice sneaking into his ears and pouring into his head until he felt it would either burst from the number of minds being stuffed inside, or he would be subsumed completely in the peremptory rearrangement of his thoughts. The extra presence licked at the corner of a voice he half-remembered, nuzzled a strong and heady scent that he both detested and cherished, played with the sensation and comfort of holding a properly weighted knife. He had no shields, no defense. He had no route of escape. The only choice left to him was to endure, but he couldn't endure this anymore, not the rake of insubstantial tines through his memories that unearthed dark and secret things to squirm helplessly in the open.

Endure. Or retreat. Retreat and regroup, evaluate and revise one's strategies before making another attempt. But to where? Where did someone retreat to when they were trying to run away from what amounted to themselves? There must be a place - he cringed as the curious, questing probe followed after his spark of consciousness, riffling through the images left in its wake without compunction - there must be a haven, a sanctuary, there always was...he just had to look harder, think, throw the right combination of pieces together and let his Gift move them into place...

The garden suddenly came to him. There was a pause, and he distantly heard the duke's murmured, "And what's this...?"

_No! Not there...he must not be allowed in there!_ But how was he to bar the duke's entrance? Bar him from...the pond. It was the pond, that he most needed to save, and in turn, the pond would save him.

Frantic, feeling the duke's touch already brushing his shoulders, he crashed through the vegetation, did not know if he merely ignored the sting of branches slapping against him in his pell-mell rush, or if they were as substance-less as he was in this illusory world. _A world within myself. A world created by me._ As the pond suddenly revealed itself in a reluctant retreat of scraggly twigs and spicy evergreen needles, he cradled the precious thoughts close, nursing them along with a stubborn sense that this was not right. _I am being routed within my own mind! He invades and I can do nothing but run!_

He thought his fingers might have twitched, out there in the real world. Curled into a tight fist of indignation, perhaps. But he spared little more thought for investigating the matter as he continued his headlong sprint straight for the pond, gathered himself when he was one step away, and launched himself straight toward its center when his toes curved over the lip of a little hummock overhanging the mirror surface. There was no grace in the dive, just speed and necessity, and though he felt the shock of relative cold as he would expect the shadowed waters to feel, he could not quite hold on to the feeling of _wetness_ that should come with the immersion. Just another detail to ponder in less trying times, a delightful little mystery that he could pick over if he found himself dangerously idle. As for the moment...

He twisted himself around with the languid fluidity of a fish, finding himself suspended easily within the medium as if he had no buoyancy beyond that which balanced him perfectly just beneath the surface, with as little need for air as a stone tossed inside, staring up at the sky and the fringe of plants around the edges through the pond's perfectly still surface. Its equanimity was unmarred by his entrance. Silence...peace...haven...

Something touched the pond's edge. Tasted the water, and complained to itself about the dark and wet and the temptation of memories to pilfer. Kyn's eyes narrowed.

It started as a muffled crackle, a skitter of hoarfrost across the pond's originally flawless face. But then, finding confidence in this little evidence of his newfound control, Kyn drew his hand in a wide sweep before him, palm out, as if wiping away an unsightly vision. 

And the pond abruptly froze over with a sharp_ crack!_ - a foot-thick barrier between himself and the intruding presence. Smug and safe, he let himself drift a little deeper, eyes still fixed on the half-opaque, half-translucent shield above, tiny snippets of rainbows caught within its uneven, refractive width as the dream-sunlight danced across its surface, attempting to win through.

He could sense the duke's eventual frustration and retreat, but remained within his pond, watchful. He heard the man's demands, the threats and the cajoling, and still he held himself still, watching. When his body was shifted, his slit wrist tucked against his chest so that the blood soaked into the fabric instead of dripping onto the floor and then arms slipped beneath his shoulders and legs, he stirred uneasily but did not banish the ice, nor move any closer. He bided his time, unwilling to risk the return of the duke's probing psychic touch, refused to acknowledge that he was even conscious as his body was carried to the window, awkwardly propped against the sill as it was opened and himself drawn out with him when the duke clambered ignominiously through. Almost, he laughed at the thought of the dignified aristocrat climbing in and out of windows like a common thief. 

His humor rapidly waned, however, when he was finally propped up against a store's siding after being dragged through two alleys, and the alien-sounding syllables spilled from the duke's lips once again. Almost, he melted the ice away to stop those words, before remembering that his body might still be unresponsive and that he would then be left vulnerable to intrusions. And so he reluctantly held himself still in a tight little knot, cold dread overtaking him by inches as if the ice was gradually spreading throughout the pond, encasing him within. He remained utterly, breathlessly still as the warm, dry fingertips rubbed at the blood on his forehead, smearing the mark, and there was a tantalizing...far too familiar scent...

Something had been crushed beneath his nose. The crackle of dried leaves and paper and other, unguessable materials reached his ears at the same time that the mingled scents registered on his brain, and he could _feel_ his own body jerk back in reaction...in remembrance...

And finally, finally, the duke left. Sprawled inelegantly against the wall, the only thing that goaded Kyn into acting at all instead of remaining suspended in the dry waters, unfeeling and unthinking, was the growing sensation of cold lethargy overtaking him. Only when he could no longer justify to himself that it came from the illusion of ice he had drawn over the pond did he venture upwards to place fingertips tentatively against the shield, and dismantled a tiny piece from it. _ :Sianni.:_

_ :Chosen!:_ the reply came immediately, frantic with worry and fear that he felt as intimately as his own, and he felt a small pang of remorse at being the cause of it before he could recall himself. _:What happened? Where are you? You just suddenly...disappeared to me, and even Brin could not find you with his Gift...:_

_:I think...I think I am five to ten stores down from the Moon Lady's Inn. You might wish to come quickly,:_ he warned absently before quickly retreating back into his pond's depths, the ice restoring itself to pristine condition once he had finished speaking.

* * *

_"No! I refuse to help him out of a bed of his own making! I don't care anymore. I say you're better off without him."_

The frenetic activity that had surrounded his finding by Brin, his Companion Raolian, and Sianni had convinced him that his pond was the safest place to be at the time. Brin had seemed on the verge of breaking down into tears. Sianni had been visibly beside herself at the state they had found him in. Raolian had seemed to be the only one that was maintaining a cool head in the group, and Kyn had felt distant relief as the Companion maintained his composure and nosed Brin into creating a makeshift tourniquet and bandage out of saddle lacings and a shirt sleeve. The trip back to the collegium Kyn ignored completely as he turned away from the pond's icy film, pondering over the names and facts he had gleaned from the duke.

Jenner might be Master, if the duke was to be believed. And Vinsen...Mrr'Thaine...Vinsen Mrr'Thaine? An ancestor, or...he shied quickly from where that particular thought led. No, the duke had to be mistaken. Kyn had no connections, no history, and took a mixed relief from that anonymity. There was nothing to tie him down with inherited obligations, or to point him out as something extraordinary to someone with its attendant responsibilities. He had enough bindings as it was. And how was he to trust anything that the duke said, anyway? The man could be mistaken, or laying false trails. How had Se'Fannouel known so much about him? How had he known he was there in the first place?

How had the man gotten into his mind?

Kyn closed his eyes, wrapping himself in the calm stillness beneath the ice. Too many questions, too many conflicts, he should just let it all go for a little while and rest. It might sort itself out without requiring his intervention. _All the better if it does._

_"Nadia, please! He'll die!"_

_"Do you know what he did when I offered my help freely, Brin?! He threatened me! I say if he has a deathwish, who am I to stand in his way?"_

_"The boy is right, Healer. No choice do any of us have in this. Maintain contact with his master he does, this much we know. But little else were we able to discover without tipping our hand as tonight proved. Investigations in other areas go too slowly, so he must be allowed to continue as he has."_

He had only been half paying attention to what happened around him, knew intellectually if not viscerally that Brin and the Companions had dragged him immediately to the healers' hall. Sianni was the one who had insisted on Nadia and discretion when Brin had complained, and it was only her obvious anxiety over Kyn's wellbeing and a gentle nudge from the equally puzzled but less objecting Raolian that finally convinced Brin they should wait until the young healer herself came grumbling down to take them in. Bypassing the main hall, she had led them directly to a private room, stocked anonymously with a bed, table, and shelves lined by rolls of bandages, little drawers labeled clearly in a neat script, and various other implements and supplies that might be needed in the healing trade. It was then that the argument began, and not long after, Alberich had let himself in.

But with that last statement by the un-Herald, Kyn couldn't help half turning, anger, resentment, and a sort of almost-annoyance roiling deep within. Was that why Master had not stayed, if he had come at all? Because Kyn had been followed? Recent events had taken such a disastrous turn because tonight, of all nights, the un-Herald had decided he needed to be followed?

_"Don't healers have to take some sort of oath or something? To help whoever needs them? Nadia, please!"_

_"Don't believe everything you read. Especially in those chapter-books you keep buying, they're more romantic than realistic - and don't you look so innocently at me! I've seen them sticking out of your book bag!"_

Kyn reluctantly stirred, approached the ice once more though he didn't move to touch it, still debating with himself. The healer would be approaching soon; he had heard it in the token grumble she had produced for Brin, already resigning herself to the task. She had always asked Kyn to drop his shields before - a mere formality and exercise, since he had yet to build anything strong enough to do more than keep his Mindspeeches private - but he wasn't ready to drop this one yet. How it would affect her, this new shield that could keep out Se'Fannouel's invasive touch?

_"What is it, Healer?"_

_"I...hold on, give me a moment."_

She had slipped into his dreams before. Would she manage to get through where the duke hadn't? But Kyn had been unaware, then, and ignorant - he started when there was a flicker of shadow beyond the sheet of ice, a dim flutter like a magpie hovering over its nest, darting about at some imagined threat but never straying far. Nadia was there, on the other side, and it seemed that shield or no shield, she was able to ply her art...

_"He's weak. The cut is healed, but I can't replace all of the blood he's lost; he'll have to do that on his own."_

_"What else? Your expression tells me there's more."_

_"I...wasn't able to reach him. I healed the physical hurts, but...there's something else that's off-balance. And I can't perform a deeper scan unless he lets me in."_

He relaxed minutely. So, what she had told had been a half truth, or perhaps a whole truth, if viewed from a certain angle. A limited healing with shields, but perhaps she preferred something a little more thorough, which would require the dropping of them. Relieved in knowing he was safe from all pryings, he let himself drift once again, keeping one ear pricked for the un-Herald's voice, waiting for anything else the man might accidentally reveal before a seemingly catatonic patient.

_"What's so funny!"_

_"Your pardon, Healer, my amusement had not been directed at you. Merely that he could not seem to learn to center and shield himself properly, even after an unprecedented amount of time beneath Corian's tutelage, and here has managed to not only ground, but hide himself away completely, all in one night. Perhaps we had never presented him with enough of a challenge."_

_"Uhm...I'm sorry to interrupt, Sir, Madam, but...why isn't he waking up?"_

_Because I don't feel like it,_ Kyn responded internally with a reflexive scowl. During Nadia and Alberich's conversation, Brin had called softly to Kyn, and gone so far as to pat his cheek lightly in the hopes of eliciting a response. _Now go away so that I can eavesdrop without you interrupting them every three sentences._

_"Brin, I'm not sure he's going to be waking up for the next day or two. You have to give it some time."_

_"I understand that, but Raolian says Sianni says she can't 'reach him'. I'm...not sure I understand all the details."_

_"What?"_

Havens. Brin just didn't know when to keep his mouth shut, did he? Kyn grumbled quietly to himself as he saw the shadow-flutter of the healer above, shuddered as he was briefly reminded of his dreams, and deliberately turned his back on the ice, waiting for their interests to wane so that he could be left alone. He wasn't even interested in listening in on what Alberich had to say anymore; he just wanted some privacy and quiet to sulk in for a while before thinking about reemerging from his haven again.

_"Well?"_

_"You're certainly an impatient lot! This isn't as easy as I make it look."_

_"Admit that you should not."_

_"Yes, well, you're not supposed to keep dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night either. I'm allowed to be a little off. Anyway, it's most impressive what he's managed to accomplish in 'one night' if you're not exaggerating. The shield is quite solid - feels almost like shaded stone, or ice. It would take you quite a bit of time and effort to chip it away."_

_"And if Melidee was to work at him? How long would it be?"_

_"I don't know. Depends on how persuasive she can be. She could do a lot of damage, certainly, but in the interests of keeping him whole and mostly hale, she'll have to get him to bring it down on his own."_

_"Tomorrow morn you can expect her. Anything else?"_

_"You...mentioned something about tipping your hand tonight."_

_"Your concern I do not see that it should be."_

_"It is if you caught what this master of his is giving him. Do you know if it was inhaled or ingested? Was there only a pre-mixed amount, or were there several doses?"_

Kyn abruptly held his metaphorical breath, illogically afraid that any distraction would keep him from hearing Alberich's next words after the ominous pause that followed Nadia's innocent revelation.

_"He is still taking a dosage?"_

Kyn noted the active-voice structure of the un-Herald's soft question uneasily, turning his back on the ice and poised to go where even their voices couldn't follow. Shield or no shield, he didn't want to stick around to see what an irate weaponsmaster was likely to try in order to get a hold of the source of his frustration.

_"You're more naive than I thought if you think I can just wave my hands and 'cure' him. And his master didn't make an appearance tonight? How did he receive his dosage then? I haven't sensed the need in him, as if he'd only just taken - "_

_"Questions to be saved for later. Melidee will arrive now instead of in the morn. Brin, please return to your room. Tomorrow I wish to speak with you. Healer, if you wish sleep tonight, allow me to suggest that you depart now as well."_

At those ominous words, Kyn immediately dove as deeply and quickly as he could possibly manage, vowing not to emerge again until at least two weeks have passed and he could try and sneak out to find Master again.

* * *

Q Jackson - Thank you for the compliment, and yes, it is my story, but I'm also looking to improve my writing. =) So, if you've got a concern, by all means air it, and I'll see if I at least _intended_ that effect, even if our opinions differ on how things should go. If Kyn's going to be seen as a bastard, it has to be because I wrote him that way on purpose, rather than it being an accident. ;) Anyway, in reply to your specific notes, right now I'm keeping in mind that Kyn is _not_ a Herald. At least, not yet. He is one that is in training, and to me, this means that he is on something like a probationary status, even if Sianni is basically vouching for his character and/or potential. Things can happen in between Choosing and 'graduation' that would keep him from becoming a Herald (a 100% graduation rate seems highly unlikely to me, even with mystical god-gifted animals thrown into the mix). As for his being unemotional...I'm afraid (please forgive me! It's almost 3 am and I've been working between 12 and 17 hours a day for the last week, including the weekends) I'll have to be lazy and point you to M'cha's reviews for April 25th. She did an absolutely beautiful job of explaining exactly what I'm doing with Kyn. 

M'cha - Ooooh, I feel your pain. Truly. Computers and the internet are alternately the next best thing since sliced bread and the next worst thing since Jar Jar Bink's conception. toasts three years' worth of part-time tech support Hee, and I can sympathize as well with late-night reading. As of recently, all my reading has been, perforce, late at night. ;) Thank you for the thorough explanation, and I did, in fact, manage to sit down in a bookstore for two hours and browse through the Valdemar's Companion and take a few notes. Unfortunately, the book summaries were still a little sparse on details such as the one I wanted. =( Oh well, it was nevertheless a good resource, and if I had my own credit card right now or could justify to myself its purchase using my parents' money... sigh I really wish I could demand a salary in a family business. applauds while cheering madly Thank you for that wonderful review on Kyn's character. Not only was it a major ego booster, but you have just reassured me that, despite my clumsy handling of his confusion, I am managing to do _something_ half-right if I managed to get that concept across. (Though, I think I have more your perceptiveness to thank for that than my own writing skills.) nods sagely Yes, it is indeed an evil thing for a body to be forced out of bed to catch the bus at 6:40 in the morning (especially if it's interrupting a review that is being written =P). What is the world coming to? And I hope this chapter managed to explain why Kyn feels the duke's death is necessary a little more clearly. =P 


	9. The Words Between: part 9a

To my dear grandmother, who left us on the evening of Tuesday, May 28th, 2002. While sometimes infuriating - as only those who know you best can be - and stubbornly anchored in the standards of a world two generations away, she was also a woman of unbelievable generosity, who believed all her grandchildren were the brightest and the most beautiful, and who wielded a startling turn of phrase that could send even the most stoic into gales of laughter while she blinked all too innocently back.

While I am unable to tell her story here, let it be known that she was loved, and that she will be missed.

DAY ONE

He might have slept. Kyn wasn't sure, because the garden was always awash in sunlight, the pond always cast in darkness, and there was nothing to judge time by but for the occasional surfacings he made to keep in touch with what happened out _there_. However, there was a distinct 'blank' period that might have been the unconsciousness associated with slumber - or shock - in which he could account for nothing but for the fact that time had, apparently, passed without his knowing. It occurred to him that he wasn't as nonchalant about recent events as he would like to think he was, especially when the blank periods were usually rudely shattered by his own flailing about, sweeping aside imagined shadows that had grown inexplicable eyes and intelligences, but which dispersed along with his dreams as soon as he realized where he was. No, he had to admit to himself that the duke's probings had frightened him to a degree that he had yet to grasp fully, perhaps damaged him in some subtle way, and he wasn't sure if it would be better to confront it now or to let it lie to assimilate on its own. Neither option sounded enticing for various reasons.

Melidee had arrived as threatened, sometime during that blank period when he had, perhaps, dived too incautiously and too deeply. He received the strong impression of her presence, that peculiar 'flavor' that was associated with her mental speech, but he remembered no specifics and nothing short of Alberich himself could have piqued his interest enough to rouse himself further - and the un-Herald had declined to make an appearance, despite the newly acquired resolution to turn Kyn inside out for the answers. So Kyn had indulged in his moment of non-thought while he had the chance, all but wallowed in the lack of sensation, worry, and fear, until the only thing reminding him that he existed at all was the occasional nightmare or future-glimpse. 

Mid-morning had brought a new level of lucidity along with breakfast and this time, the sure sign of Melidee's presence came in carefully cheerful words and a casual equivalent of a mental 'knock' to see if anyone was home and answering. Kyn didn't bother to even throw out a metaphorical door mat for her, and let his body run on automatic as it was taken care of, returning to his little pocket beneath the ice.

The duke had known Master. The Master had known the duke, had not only known, but attempted to kill him on several occasions, and been thwarted thus far. 

Se'Fannouel had recognized Kyn, as the son or grandson or some other form of offspring of a man known by both him and Master. Kyn marked that thought as pure speculation and carefully shelved it for later. Or better yet, never.

Se'Fannouel knew the same arts as Master. Oh, not that the circles didn't give it away, but the future was a chancy thing at best; one never knew how far ahead it lay, though Kyn's visions tended to be in the relative short-term, sometimes venturing no farther than a handful of hours or even minutes ahead. Se'Fannouel might not have known how to use the circles or other magics right now, but that little trick of getting into Kyn's mind was a dead giveaway he knew at least the rudimentaries. _More_ than the rudimentaries. Master had never practiced anything like it, but Kyn recognized the ritual gestures, the glyphs and sigils weighted with the history of a centuries-long art. He had heard the same guiding cadence of syllables uttered, the framework upon which draped the worker's intent and gave it form, though the sounds and their placement themselves were unfamiliar. He had seen that particular sorcery worked before - had had it worked on _him_ by Master, and had seen Master perform it on other things as well as on other men.

And Se'Fannouel knew the same drugs, or something similar enough that Kyn's body had not heeded the difference, drugs that Master had regularly given him, had so saturated his body with that they became as natural and needed as oxygen and nourishment. Leaves charred in an unnatural, nonexistent flame...pods broken and crushed...bark stripped and twigs snapped, the mixture thrust beneath his nose so that their thick, chalky scents could not be avoided. The most telling point had been Nadia's words: _ How did he receive his dosage then? I haven't sensed the need in him, as if he'd only just taken -_

- as if he had actually seen his Master, and _only just taken_ the heady concoction that was always prepared. Kyn wondered and worried at that fact, chewed the thought until it became something almost unrecognizable. 

It implied that Master and Se'Fannouel had been close before, close enough that their methods paralleled each other's. It would be chillingly logical, if the years of planning aimed toward the one goal of the duke's death was to be believed - the hatred that arose from a betrayed trust was the bitterest kind.

Yet another thought skittered about the peripheries of Kyn's mind, and with some reluctance, he let it take what shape it may, though it refused to coalesce into anything more than an amorphous hunch. Se'Fannouel may have used a similar mixture, but his purpose had undoubtedly been something other than Master's. Master gave him the drugs to guarantee his loyalty - didn't he? And Se'Fannouel...why had he used them? Did he think to bind Kyn to him as Kyn was bound to Master? Or was it some sort of mark, a door for something else, just as he had used Kyn's blood to somehow grant him access to his memories? And if that was its true purpose...what sort of accessway did Master have through him?

Kyn shivered, felt the ice creeping down, and forced himself deeper until the stark, terrified numbness had subsided into the mere womb-like feel of absent sensations.

Another meal came, and with it was brought another visitor. This one strolled through the garden, pausing here and there to examine some detail, and only after a circuitous tour paused by the pond's edge. _Tap-tap-tap._

She was knocking. And he had managed to learn the reflex of answering enough that he found himself just beneath the ice, rather than deep within the waterless depths. Frowning at himself, he tucked his hands close, waiting to see if she would insist by knocking once again. 

But she didn't knock, and she didn't go away, and finally his curiosity overcame his good sense and the ice melted away.

Sianni peered down at him from where she was lying on a particularly lush mat of mosses, and noted, _:Do you know how ridiculous it looks for you to be down there? Not to mention I keep wanting to jump in and save you from drowning.:_

Kyn barely refrained from throwing back the childish response of 'Nobody asked you' and stayed exactly where he was. He had to admit the perspective _was_ a little strange, but with a little imagination, it was no more different than standing on the other side of a very large window, the glass only visible as an occasional glimmer when the light struck it right. And, of course, there was the fact that he was either oriented horizontally relative to the garden, or he had to crane his head back to see out; the only drawback to his position, since that sort of posture always implied a weaker stance. "You'll be happy to know that I don't need any saving, then," he responded instead, careful to keep his tone as neutral as possible. While he had nothing against Sianni, he still didn't know what her motives were, and more than suspected that they involved Alberich.

_:You could have fooled me,:_ Sianni said, leaning down until her nose nearly touched the water's surface just above him, but venturing no farther. _:I swear, if I wasn't already white...you seem to go out of your way to frighten me into an early grave.:_

"I don't do it on purpose," he retorted, sounding less emphatic and far more petulant than he had intended.

_:I know,:_ Sianni reassured softly, lazily blinking lambent eyes. _:And I'm not here because Alberich asked me to talk to you. He isn't even on the palace grounds right now.:_

Really. How interesting. He wondered if, now distracted, the un-Herald would forget about his promise to pry Kyn out upon returning. "And you are volunteering this because...?"

_:Because I want you to know that I have no ulterior motives beyond wishing to see you again. I've missed you.:_

Kyn scowled at her, turning his head slightly but gaze remaining locked on the impossible equine. Being missed was an alien concept, different from being needed for a task only he could perform. It implied all sorts of complicated and befuddling relationships beyond the utilitarian, a responsibility to feed someone's craving for one's presence. It was a debt that he didn't seek, and one that he could never repay in full, and what sort of retribution would the fates eventually demand for such a balance that would ever fall out of his favor? "If you missed me so much, you could have just dropped in." 

Somehow managing to look affronted on a face not exactly conducive toward expressions, she claimed sharply, _:I would never barge in uninvited. As long as you were out of immediate danger, I could wait for when you were ready to emerge again.:_

So. Perhaps even the ice couldn't have held her off if she had truly been intent on reaching him. Which also implied something about the strength of the duke's spell, that he had managed to separate them when Kyn's own attempts at blocking Sianni had only met with lukewarm success.

In the next heartbeat, he found himself sitting on the bank next to her, and she seemed far less surprised than he felt at suddenly finding himself there, a trust that he hadn't consciously acknowledged placing him by her side. Turning calmly, she stretched her neck out and tilted her head just so, inviting him to scratch the most itch-prone spot just behind her right ear, beneath the fall of mane. "You have been...unusually patient with me." Patient, when Master would never have tolerated even hints of this sort of belligerence, much less allowed it to continue for as long as it had.

_:It is not outside the bounds of reason. And that patience has paid off, hasn't it?:_ Sianni uttered a sigh of pleasure as his fingers worked beneath her mane, scritching.

He didn't answer, instead, allowing enough time to pass to indicate an end to the current topic before he asked, "Where is Alberich? Why isn't he here?"

_:He is investigating another branch in the investigations that was recently unearthed. He will be absent for the next day or two.:_

He hitched one brow upwards. "Very convenient."

She shifted to look at him, her tone studiously innocent. _:Isn't it? But even I couldn't arrange for clues to pop up at convenient intervals, even if I had wanted to. I would like nothing more than for this entire incident to be over with, so that we can concentrate on other, more important things.:_

Kyn frowned suspiciously. "Such as?"

_:Such as yourself.:_

He shoved her head away, at which she gave a little whicker of laughter. Taking the opportunity to stand, he looked over his shoulder to examine the garden's nearest edge, just the barest glimpse of stonework through dried and wilted vegetation, huddled against the impending season's chill. Someone else had come into the room, which meant that if he didn't want to be caught out, he should step back into the pond soon. "Why are you so loyal to them? Alberich has a job to do if he wants to be paid and eat, but you? What do _you _need from them?"

The impression of a frown drifted across the bond, and Sianni heaved herself to her feet as well, giving herself a good shake to shed any detritus that would have dared to cling to her in the short time. _:Alberich performs his duties for the same reasons I do, for the same reason all Heralds do. Not out of necessity, or greed. We simply think that Valdemar is worth protecting, worth fighting for. Valdemar, its ideas, and its people.:_

"A nation ruled by altruists?" he asked skeptically, stepping to the pond's edge, looking down to see himself staring back at him. His hair was getting shaggier, and he really should re-dye it, if he didn't want to draw undue attention to himself. Master always lectured that mediocrity was the most desired trait for someone charged with the kinds of tasks he was. "But I suppose if everyone is chosen by a god-designated 'companion', you'd be able to filter out all the bad apples like no other administration can." His eyes shifted away from his reflection uncomfortably, not quite willing to touch upon the subject of what that implied about him and _his_ loyalties quite yet. "What makes Valdemar so special?" He crouched down, one hand dipping into the pond as he looked at her over his shoulder. "Why were you given to Valdemar? Why make it easier for them than anyone else in the world?"

Sianni tilted her head with a mixture of bemusement and concern. _:Valdemar does not have it 'easier' than anyone else. Heralds are as likely to fall in the line of duty as any other man or woman in the career of protecting others. I would daresay Heralds are at more risk, for when there is a crisis, the people tend to look to the Herald for miracles rather than the guard or themselves. They are expected to throw themselves headlong into impossible odds, and that sort of expectation - held either by the Heralds themselves or the bystanders - can cut both ways.:_

He felt the brush of fingertips across his forehead, and before Melidee's hesitant probe could sweep through his surface thoughts, he slipped beneath the waters. He glimpsed Sianni's form waver and vanish like a mirage._ :But why do the Valdemarans get the luxury of knowing they are right? Why can they struggle and know that the results will be looked upon favorably by their god every step of the way, while others flail about hoping they will not be blasted for their efforts?:_ The ice crept in from the pond's edges in a slow crackle of milky translucence, a closing collar of shadow that had him momentarily frozen in uncertainty before he forcibly banished the paranoia.

_:Heralds face as much uncertainty as anyone else. We are merely guides, and companions as our name suggests, not gods ourselves. And not just Valdemarans are thus 'privileged'...Alberich is a prime example of others receiving the dubious honor of being Chosen for Valdemar's service.:_

Alberich. Torn from everything he knew by a force he couldn't combat. Made into a hated enemy of his people. A traitor in every sense, as he trained those who would eventually meet his homeland's troops and agents in battle. 

Kyn shifted uneasily, and sank down into the pond's depths as the hole in the ice above him shrank and then disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~

He dreamed of shadows that night. Shadows, teeth and eyes, circles within circles...and griffins. No, one griffin...and a fox. Brown and gold, scarlet on white. Oddly enough, the nightmares had become almost comforting in their regularity. It was the break in pattern that unsettled him - or so he told himself when he came to himself with a start afterwards, the ice thicker than it had been when he had fallen asleep, himself curled far beneath, with the curiously flat silhouettes of the two animals cavorting before his mind's eye. It was almost as if they were drawings given life, with no depth, no third dimension.

They had danced together, the griffin and the fox, or so it had seemed - playful as puppies and gentle as kittens. But as he had neared, and the details grew curiously sharper even as shadows obscured them, he saw that they were tearing at each other instead.

Little pieces were bitten and clawed and shredded away, until all that eventually remained were a few dull threads, fluttering listlessly in the darkness.

* * *

My dearest apologies to those who have reviewed since my last posting; I promise I will take the time in the posting of the next part to make personal replies to you all. I am just afraid that I will not be able to give it the attention you deserve right now.

Hopefully the rest of this chapter will not be too long in coming (at least 40% of it is already written, in haphazard scraps and pieces). I just wanted to reassure those who have checked back or reviewed that you had not done so in vain. =)


	10. The Words Between: part 9b

Bleh! Just goes to show beyond a shadow of a doubt that I should never procrastinate. Of _course_ it would happen that, when I finally have a chapter spruced up and ready to go on the night of the 13th, I wake up on the morning of the 14th, do a last proof, log in...and then find out that I won't be able to upload anything 'till the 21st. sighs 

And then find out I couldn't log in till the 24th. sighs^2

* * *

Thank you all, _very_ much, for your words of comfort. I had not written about my grandmother specifically to garner sympathy, but it is still _highly _appreciated. I will miss her considerably, but I have faith that it all turned out well in the end. Perhaps even now she waits with my grandfather for us to eventually rejoin them, younger and happier, wiling the time away in amusement parks, eating ice cream under a never-setting sun...

And now, back to your regularly scheduled programming, part 2 of chapter 9...

DAY TWO

Kyn eyed the butterfly-flutter of Melidee beyond the ice's barrier and settled a little deeper into the pond.

_:Kyn? You can't possibly think you can hide in there for the rest of your life, can you?:_

He bristled briefly at the 'hiding' part but held his tongue. If he thought responding would have chased Melidee off and left him in peace, he would have prompted the conversation rather than wait for her to come to him.

_:I'm not asking you to let down your shield, just to answer a few questions. We can't help you if you don't tell us what happened that night.:_

It was tempting, he had to admit. Especially when further contemplation had shown that, more likely than not, he would need the Heralds' help long before the end of the matter came within sight. If nothing else, he would need a little more freedom of movement than having half a dozen watchers would allow. 

He still hadn't forgiven Alberich for possibly driving Master off the evening before last, when he had needed his guidance the most. He had been woefully unprepared for what he had encountered in the duke's room.

_:Please, Kyn. Regardless of Alberich's display of temper, we would never force you to do anything you don't truly want.:_

It was an odd experience, knowing there was something he had that the Heralds desperately wanted, and also knowing that they would not resort to extreme measures to drag it out of him. At least, not yet. He wouldn't put anything past the un-Herald should Alberich feel true need to press the issue.

Melidee's line of questioning also meant that Sianni had not told them anything significant - at least, nothing that the woman was willing to reveal by making too-pointed queries based on information she couldn't have obtained herself. He didn't know how much the Companion had actually caught before and after the duke had taken a firm hold of him, but he was willing to wager it was still quite a bit more than the Heralds currently had.

_:But surely you can see that even the weaponsmaster is only concerned with saving lives; your own included, his attitude notwithstanding.:_

He couldn't help scoffing at the first half. Even after all this time, after the unsubtle censures from Nadia and the occasional, lighter, but no less disapproving flashes he received from others, Melidee was still appealing to his nonexistent sense of duty toward the Heralds and their ideals? He was quite certain that Nadia felt his only redeeming trait was Sianni - not a very reassuring recommendation, even at the best of times - but he forgave Melidee somewhat for the naive comment with the inclusion of the latter portion. It had almost made him smile. The thought of the un-Herald concerned with warding Kyn's life was well worth a grin, perhaps even a chuckle or two.

Still, Alberich had not stinted in his lessons, had offered advice freely, and with care. Kyn could not quite quell the feeling of...contentment that had accompanied the familiar exchange of practice, example, and instruction. His teacher in knives had been like that; patient, focused, projecting an unerring confidence of his ability to see a task through to its smallest detail. Kyn had felt trust in the man's care, knowing he need not fear distractions or outside concerns sabotaging his schooling.

_:Surely I must be boring you to tears by now, my boy. Won't you throw even the tiniest scrap of information my way to appease Alberich for the day when he asks for a report tonight? Alberich doesn't always remember the adage about ill tidings and the messengers that bear them...:_

_That_ nearly made him blink in bald-faced surprise - with the eyelids on his actual body rather than the illusory one he had conjured in the garden - and he was still trying hazily to assess whether he had given himself away in his bemusement when he was saved by a sigh and an interruption from the same source.

_:But I suppose it will have to wait for tomorrow. You have a visitor, and I should see to lunch, or whatever is left of it at this late hour. Good day, Kyn.:_

And that was that. Melidee's presence withdrew like a scent carried away by a breeze that had turned, leaving Kyn with a mixture of unexpected relief and anxiousness, wondering who else would be looking in on him that would require an announcement from the Herald. He could only think of Nadia or Alberich - and the former had given him a cursory inspection in the morning before announcing perfunctorily she would next be back in the evening after her rounds, and the latter was not even in the city. No one else in the collegium even knew he was here, except for...

There was an unexpected, awkward silence that entered along with the boy when Brin stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Kyn heard the snick of the latch catching, and then the hesitant, shuffling steps that took the boy to his bedside, a light scrape of chair legs being dragged over polished stone, and then muffled thuds as the boy took the seat and set something down beside him. They sounded like hollow tubes.

_"Uhm, hi."_

Almost, Kyn wished Brin had just entered with his usual non-stop, one-sided conversation already going at full speed. The boy's unnatural reticence was nearly as unnerving as his barrage of words had been upon first exposure, even in the few seconds that had elapsed since his entry. It simply seemed...unnatural.

_"Uh, Melidee says that you can hear me, but...I don't know. It's kind of unsettling, seeing you just sitting there and...Kyn? Are you all right? Please, just blink, twitch a finger...do _something_...let me know you're in there and awake and still Kyn!"_

Kyn frowned, trying to keep up with the leap-frog jump of the boy's logic, and having little success. He found very little to account for the near-hysterical quality to Brin's pleadings when all the Heralds knew he was quite well - had, in fact, been told by Nadia in no uncertain terms that he should stop sulking and rejoin the real world. What he failed to reason out logically, his mind simply refused to process, but thankfully, the boy seemed inclined to move on to other subjects with his usual alacrity even without prompting, saving Kyn from another round of hand-wringing.

_"I-I'm sorry. I'm probably annoying you to no end if you're paying any attention right now - "_

The boy was correct, on both counts, though Kyn was rapidly rethinking his options concerning the latter point.

_" - and I know I usually tend to annoy you, but...I can't help myself. I sometimes annoy my mother too. She tends to say what she needs to and not waste any words beyond that - oh, I know you would get along well with her, Kyn! You seem to know the value of silence, just like her...but I tend toward my da more, and we sometimes talk over each other, which annoys him too, but he forgives me most times 'cause it's our talk that gets us our trade, you know? It's words that draws the connections between us and the clients - why, we wouldn't have the majority of our business if we hadn't netted some interesting tidbit or another of information out of casual conversation, or built up or discovered relations that we would never have found without idle talk!"_

Kyn wondered if that was supposed to be an allegory of his own situation, a relatively blunt reminder that he might find it in his best interests to share - trade - what information he held. But then he decided that even Alberich - much less Melidee, if she had been left in charge in his absence - would not stoop to using Brin in such a heavy-handed, graceless manner. He doubted the flighty, naive boy would have come up with such an elaborate scheme on his own, and so was eventually forced into the conclusion that the words had been offered at face value.

_"But that can wait. I was told I would only be allowed a little time with you, and I really wanted to show you my maps...did you know I collected maps? I've loved maps ever since my da first let me into the study which he converted into his office at home...he had all his maps laid out around the room: on the walls, on the tables, some even on the floor. And they all had the trade routes marked on them. They all represented stories, people, places...things exotic and unimaginable, so far away but all drawn in by a few ink marks and a tile of paper..."_

Kyn was beginning to reconsider his earlier assessment that a flood of dialogue would be preferable to halting phrases and silence.

Whatever objects Brin had brought with him were dragged near, and soon the sounds of paper rustling against each other were heard, overriding the propping of their container against the chair's side. 

Kyn barely suppressed a twitch of consternation. Surely Brin wasn't thinking of spending the rest of his afternoon chattering away and showing him his map collection?

_"This one was my first...my father gave it to me as my twelfth birthing day gift. Isn't it beautiful? He says it is nearly twice as old as _he_ is, and that this is all hand-illuminated, even the symmetrical detailing on the rose compass..."_

Sheets were unrolled, laid out carefully over the bed covers as if Kyn had consented to examine them. In his eagerness, Brin scooted to the edge of his chair and leaned forward over the maps - over Kyn - and lowered his voice to an excited, conspiratorial half-whisper.

_"He gave me this one on my next birthing day, and this one on the next. I've picked up quite a few on my own as you can see, but I think this is my favorite out of all of them. See? You can clearly see the East Trading Road...all the way to the border..."_

Kyn could almost feel his ears perk up, just like Sianni's when something had caught her attention. The boy couldn't possibly be...?

_"In fact, if you follow the line of the main trade route, and see where it is crossed by this smaller road paralleling the Fairshadow's River...that is where you will find Lynxfinn Holdings. That is Duke Aisner Se'Fannouel's land."_

Brin's voice progressively lowered as he spoke, as if imparting innocent secrets that contained worth only between the friends who shared them, until Kyn could no longer ignore the fact that the boy was far more clever than he had ever given him credit for. The tow-headed youth was trying to smuggle him information - and succeeding quite well in the act.

_"You know, during those two lunch meetings that we had? I got the funny impression that he didn't really _see_ me. Oh, not that I'm not all too acquainted with being patronized, but...he was there, sitting across from me, watching me and smiling and nodding to my words, but it's as if he saw straight _through_ me...to something else. To his goal, maybe, whatever he was using me to get to. And it's not the rosenthyme market."_

The need to smuggle implied that Brin was trying to hide this information from the Heralds - which implied in turn that, however the meeting between him and Alberich went, the boy had not told the un-Herald everything about his involvement in the whole mess. Or rather, what he suspected about the whole mess. Why? The un-Herald couldn't possibly have treated the boy gently, knowing he was Alberich's next best resource for information beyond Kin or Sianni themselves.

But whatever his reasons, what Brin was doing now...Kyn felt a tendril of shame curl through his center. He had forgotten, overlooked, the most valuable source of information he had had beyond Master himself. For havens' sake, the boy had been in two private meetings with the duke! And Kyn had not even thought of asking him for his opinions on the man beyond the superficial outline of his schedule of stay? It was an unconscionable oversight, perhaps influenced by Brin's wide blue eyes, unlined face and endless patter; one that Kyn should not have committed so blindly and which he vowed not to repeat.

Still, if he had fallen so easily for the boy's act, what would that say of others? Despite Brin's obvious connection to him, perhaps the duke still did not think of him as a possible informant or danger...

Sourly, Kyn couldn't help reminding himself that the duke had probably laid all such fears to rest, considering his lackluster performance the night before previous. He had proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had known absolutely nothing about Se'Fannouel.

_"I've always thought it fascinating how much you can tell about a place by its trade...people know when a city or town is sliding into trouble, or is about to thrive. Of course, I'm not saying that bad or good trade is what prompts people to either move on or stay with their business - it can go the other way around too - but I think trade is a measure of how well an area is doing. If there is the slightest hesitation, or the tiniest hint of opportunity, people will respond, and soon the condition is exacerbated to proportions that just about everyone can see and feel. Take Lynxfinn Holdings for example..."_

The boy had a remarkable grasp of vocabulary and sentence structure for his age. Kyn had heard worse examples, either out on the streets in passing during his assignments, or even on the collegium grounds. It seemed that for all his talk, Brin also knew how to listen, for his background had indicated nothing about expensive tutors, and so he could only have picked it up from others - either his parents or his father's clients. In fact, with his quick mind, innocent facade, and only a little more training, Kyn could well apply Brin to - 

What in havens was he thinking? Train Brin? Draw the boy even closer? He could not afford any dependencies.

But it would also be foolhardy to ignore resources, as he had done previously, though only through ignorance. He had only just vowed not to compound his error by committing the same mistake twice, and deliberately the second time, no less...

_"My father didn't pay much attention to that portion of the trade road until only a few years ago...there was just enough movement in and out of the holdings to maintain a healthy status quo, but nothing truly worth the effort of trying to gain a foothold in a market so far from the capitol, at least for us. There were plenty of other merchants that were already well established there...the area's not poor. But then it abruptly changed...we are still on the peripheries - most of our business is concentrated elsewhere - so I don't know many of the details, but the duke began to take a much more active interest in enriching his holdings and making Lynxfinn a bad place to pass up along the trade route. Lots of families have been moving there in anticipation of the increased business and opportunities...I've heard him described as a charismatic man by others who have met him, and while I agree he has a certain presence, I'm not sure if it isn't greed or misplaced adoration or who knows what else coloring their opinions of him..."_

But thoughts of the boy were resolutely pushed aside as Kyn settled himself to listen - to _truly _listen - to Brin for the first time since their meeting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

The griffin and the fox returned that night. And once again they danced and tore politely at each other, until all he was left with were afterimages and a salty-metallic tang. He wasn't sure why, he wasn't sure what they were supposed to represent, he wasn't even sure if it was just some more-than-usually bizarre dreaming, or actual portents. His mind did not usually lend itself to such pure, abstract symbolism - and yet, he could not think of anything in real life that would correspond to such curious, two-dimensional creatures.

They weren't even a particularly good distraction from his usual nightmares. If anything, he felt even more dread at their appearance, as if their seeming innocence could only hide something that was beyond his mind's ability to grasp.

* * *

DAY THREE

There came a soft tap-tap against the ice - a hoof knocking lightly against the surface. Kyn drifted up, just beneath where the sound had come from, and waited. When he judged enough time had passed that he had made his point, he melted a perfect circle exactly where Sianni had knocked, and thought himself sitting upon the ice's edge, facing the Companion. His control was enough now that he did not feel the ice's cold except as a faint pins-and-needles sensation, but he could not seem to break away from the imagery altogether. The garden and the pond still had to exist if he wished to build a shield of this caliber.

_:Thank you for seeing me, Kyn,:_ Sianni said politely, turning her head slightly to focus one sapphire orb on him.

He shrugged as nonchalantly as he was able to, well aware of the ridiculousness of the ritual they had fallen into over the last three days and four visits, but finding a perverse pleasure in it as well. It was an unspoken agreement between them that here, Sianni was a guest, and that he had the last say in whether he would see her or not. It was on his whim that she saw him at all - and while intellectually he knew that to be silly, he needed to know that there were still some things in his control. Sianni seemed to know this, as she did so many other things, and so she indulged him in his little plays at power.

It was enough of a contrast compared to Melidee's methods that he couldn't help wondering if this was a set up, trying to get him to confess to one if not the other through the sheer relief of dealing with Sianni's complacency as opposed to the Herald's unrelenting badgering. But on the evening of the second day, he had decided that there were enough conspiracies running around without him imagining more.

"What did you want?" he asked bluntly. This too, was another part of the game. He would maintain the show of belligerence while allowing her the opening to make a suggestion. And so long as the suggestion she made did not touch upon Master...

_:I thought you'd might like to go for a ride with me,:_ Sianni said, curving her neck and looking up at him through her lashes. _:It is a beautiful day, if a touch nippy.:_

He carefully considered the request, making a token attempt to search for ulterior motives. The effort used to be genuine; in the beginning, when he had still been in denial and unsure. But he had had three days to think on that and many other matters, and he had finally decided that he trusted her. When before he had cringed at the thought of all his conflicts and thoughts laid bare, he now found a strange reassurance in knowing someone had seen them all, and understood. Rather than frightening him, her knowledge of him had become a comfort - much like his relationship with Master or some of the instructors who had stayed longer, when words were not needed and they could pass the entire day without voicing a syllable because they knew each other's routines so well.

Routine. What Sianni and he had now had become routine. He had made it so, and Sianni had allowed it, becoming a willing participant. Though his more logical side called him three kinds of a fool for allowing her such unprecedented status, he had come to the realization somewhere in his musings that he needed her. Perhaps the Heralds as well. He couldn't accomplish what he hoped to alone.

It didn't mean, though, that he was about to welcome the Heralds in with open arms. Need not welcome them at all, if he played it carefully enough.

"I don't want to leave the garden," he warned, couching his fear of leaving his pool and haven behind in unreasoning - and inarguable - whim. He had short patience for lengthy discussions these days, and was not above petty practices to head one off.

_:Then we will not leave the garden,:_ Sianni agreed equably.

Kyn frowned, taking a look around, at the sere and scraggly landscape that had already stripped itself in preparation for winter, but which still managed to give the area a chaotic feel of jumbled branches and tangled limbs. "There is not enough room to ride in here."

_:Of course there is,:_ Sianni scoffed gently, turning to present her left side to him in invitation. _:This is your mind. There will be plenty of room.:_

He stared at her in perplexity before he felt a small, wry smile steal over his face. "Of course. How foolish of me." Standing, he stepped over the hole in the ice and onto the dry, yellowed remains of grass interspersed liberally with spiky tufts of moss. Turning back, he gazed for a moment at the unruffled black surface of the pond, the ice vanished as quickly and completely as a dream.

_:No one else is near,:_ Sianni reassured softly.

"It's not that," he lied unconvincingly, and braced his hands on her broad back. She stood patiently as he sprang to land belly-down, crosswise across her, and then smoothly swung his leg up and over to push himself astride. Perhaps, in later years with more height, he would be able to take a more elegant route for a bareback mounting. But until then, he had to resort to the less dignified method.

_:Where would you like to go, Kyn?:_ she asked even as she began to walk without his prompting.

He shrugged, automatically adjusting his perch to move smoothly with her gait. "I only know the garden, the manse's courtyard, and the collegium grounds well enough."

_:We must remedy that as soon as possible, then,:_ Sianni said as she moved up into a trot, and then shifted strides seamlessly through a canter to reach a gallop with barely enough time for him to notice the change. Automatically, he leaned forward slightly to balance himself over her withers, fingers tangling in her mane, legs gathering themselves just before her barrel though her gait was so effortless he doubted he would have fallen had he been asleep sitting straight up in the middle of her back. 

His instruction in riding with and without a saddle had been relatively minimal - just enough time devoted to it to ensure that, in an emergency, he could borrow any steed that was available and ride it at a breakneck pace...and have the both of them come out at the end in more or less one piece. Most of his time and energy had been diverted to other skills, ones that should, in theory, preclude any such need for hasty transportation.

"It doesn't matter," he murmured the words as the wind of their passage carded through her mane and stung his face. Slitting his eyes, he unconsciously lowered himself further, as if to take shelter behind her, and this only seemed to encourage her to run faster, stride lengthening. Forced to parcel more concentration to her rhythm lest he make an utter fool of himself by losing his grip, his awareness sank deeper into the beat of hooves, the bellow of lungs between his legs and the near-indiscernible rush of blood, pushed by a heartbeat he could hear only in his mind and soul.

_:Does the garden reflect the season, or your mood?:_ The inquiry came softly, almost hesitantly - or, perhaps, allowing him to refuse an answer with grace if he wished to. _:What do you dream at night, Chosen, that disturbs you so?:_

He had long ago closed his eyes against the whip of her mane as he lowered himself to press nearly full-length against her warm hide. For some reason, there was no awkwardness to the position, even with his cheek pressed against the side of her neck, as if even the limits of equine physiology did not need to reach them here. He was not jarred uncomfortably by a full-out gallop. His shoulder and chest were not pummeled by a bobbing neck. The only indication he received at all off their run was the lash of wind and silky white strands, and the rhythm of hoof and heart and breath. _Shadows. It is always shadows, ever since _his_ hand took mine...but it changed after the second time he touched me. There is a griffin now...and a fox..._

_:Would you speak of your dreams to me, Chosen? I do not wish to see you suffer needlessly...shadows, I may be able to help with. But...a gryphon? I do not understand.:_

_No, not a gryphon. A griffin..._ He stopped momentarily, confused. The two spellings were technically interchangeable, were, truthfully, indistinguishable in sound - and yet, in his mind, there was a distinct difference in what Sianni thought of when she said "gryphon" and what he thought of when he said "griffin", enough of one that he had unconsciously latched onto one variation over the other because of an arbitrary association made long ago while studying in the manse's musty library. "Gryphon" in its proper usage had, of late, been applied to the living, breathing animals that once again graced Valdemar. "Griffin" he had seen used the most often in the dusty tomes delineating lineage, histories of families, writings when the language had been younger and less strict in its spellings...

_...faster..._

...where the mentions all spoke of emblems. Crests. Coat-of-arms.

_Faster..._

Two dimensional. Flat. Two colors only: brown and gold; red on white.

_:Faster!:_

Yet, for all that it felt as if he rode the very wind now, breath stolen from his lungs by the speed of their passage, he could not escape the dread that flowered inside him at that recognition, and the knowledge that his Gift would inevitably visit him again with the sight of two family symbols destroying each other, and the sure knowledge that he was somehow bound to their mutual destruction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

He thought it was another dream at first, when the shadows in the pond deepened, something creeping over the ice to curtail even the wan light that managed to win through. It was a common enough theme that he had long ago accepted it as a mere prologue, something that could be ignored with impunity. Certainly, he made no effort to break free from his overactive Gift, though he would have rather avoided the stress of reliving the fractured scenes. But from the very onset of his Sight, he had been taught and learned the value of what his dreams could tell him. He dared not cut one off when it might reveal crucial information this time, no matter how many permutations he had to suffer through beforehand.

_I will kill him._

He almost didn't register the words. Just as the unnatural darkness could have been a passing cloud skidding across the sun - even though the light had never wavered in his garden since its inception - the sound could have been a coincidence of dried leaves and bare twigs sloughing against each other - though no breeze had ever disturbed this place within his imaginings.

_I will kill him._

Kyn paid the tickle of sound no heed - not until the whispers repeated themselves, wound through with the uncomfortable prickle of gloating. Then, only then did he belatedly stir himself to further awareness, and found uneasily that he had an autonomy that a simple dream or vision would never have granted him.

_I will kill him. I will kill him. I will kill him. I will kill - _

Maddeningly repetitive, and its message ominous enough that he couldn't help paying heed. It seemed content to sit and wait, purring the same words to itself until interrupted, and so, finally needled into responding, Kyn gave in and asked aloud, "Who."

A darker patch glided close to the ice, curling in upon itself in satisfaction, pressing close. _ The only one that matters enough to make you ask that question._

"You can't touch him," Kyn hissed immediately, unconsciously drifting close enough to flatten his hands against the unnaturally smooth surface that the pond's face had become.

The shadow shivered with delight, turning to peer through at him, a distorted montage of grinning eyes and winking teeth through a broken window. _I know where he is now, thanks to you. I know his weaknesses. And I am visiting him now, just as I am visiting you..._

"You're lying," Kyn ground out, baring his own teeth in unconscious mockery of the rictus above him. The ice creaked beneath his tensed fingers.

The shadow laughed, a soft, sibilant tickle of mirth. _I do not need to lie to you. Shall I describe the manse to you? What the walls of this garden hide behind them? Your room, the corridors beyond, the kitchen that used to produce meals for hundreds and the banquet hall that used to host them? Shall I tell you about the locked, private chamber atop the stairs, and what your precious Master had to claim on the lower floor because his broken body complains about the steps and his broken spirit the memories that cling to his former quarters - ?_

The ice gave a last, plaintive groan under the force of his fear and anger, the sound of it finally breaking away in a million glittering shards drowned by the whispery wail of the shadows as they fled before the sudden hail. He sent the entire shield exploding outwards in a rain of rocky chunks and rainbow knife edges that shredded the closest shadows into foggy wisps chasing each other toward the garden walls. He barely registered the shock of the shield's forced shattering as the remainder of the shadows flickered in surprise and whisked away from the ice storm, as quick as a thought could propel them.

_:Chosen!:_

_:He _dares_! He dares to invade and _boast_?!:_ With a silent snarl, Kyn lunged after the nearest patch of un-light, a rising howl of frustration lodging in his throat as he saw it dance beyond his swiping fingertips, tauntingly curled just out of grazing distance, gleaming yellow slits laughing back at him - until he felt a broad back suddenly under him, his legs curving of their own volition around a barrel and the play of a thousand-plus pounds of pure muscle beneath a velvety coat. And then, as the shadow danced merrily in its smug circle one second too long, Sianni surged forward with him astride and he raked his hand fully through its center - 

_- a shallow, copper bowl filled with crimson, the vague silhouette of a face reflected within, the eyes widening and mouth opening in shock before it jerks back -_

_- hands with fingertips dipped in blood, fumbling on the bowl's sides and sending it flipping end over end off its stand -_

_- clattering to the ground, its contents scattering in a gory fountain -_

_- ground composed of polished wood, decorated with esoteric symbols drawn in chalk, slowly defaced by a spreading carmine stain -_

- and he knew.

The shadow scattered into half a dozen black skeins skittering all in different directions, and this time, he let it and its brethren continue without pursuit, beyond the garden's walls.

He knew. Se'Fannouel might not have had any reason to lie to Kyn on the surface, but the duke had lied nevertheless, and Master was safe. Se'Fannouel might have ransacked some of his memories of the manse, but the man still didn't know where it was.

Relief was short-lived though, as he stared at the undisturbed vegetation, Sianni shifting and snorting uneasily. _I have become a danger to Master._

He heard a shrill whinny from outside his window, the sound of feet pounding toward his door. _:No, Chosen, you should not think of yourself in that manner.:_

_I am the only link Se'Fannouel has to Master. The proper thing to do would be to eliminate that threat._

The door was flung open with such force, it slammed into the near wall and rebounded, nearly catching the second person to enter - Nadia - full in the face. The first had already reached Kyn's side in three long strides, taking a hold of his shirt-front and half-hauling him out of the bed, raking a wintry gaze up and down his form. "Wake, Kyn!"

_:The weapon that wounds may also protect! You are your master's best defense!:_

He thought upon that, while his head flopped and his teeth rattled from the rough shake he had received with the un-Herald's barked order. Defense? What did he no about defense? His instinct, always, was to fulfill the assignment at all costs; casualties were not only acceptable, they were sometimes a given. The best defense had always been death. 

But what was his assignment now? He needed a direction, a goal, before he could formulate his strategy, decide what resources were needed, weigh the risks and the sacrifices that were acceptable for success. In the absence of an outside directing force -

_"In the absence of an outside directing force, you must, perforce, make all decisions yourself." The twisted, claw-like hand had lifted to touch a scabby, nail-less fingertip to the center of his forehead. "The decisions must come from within you. Do not hesitate. Do not let yourself fall to indecision. So long as you accept all the consequences of your actions, you can do no wrong."_

All consequences. He had stared at that bone-and-sinew remnant of a human limb, and had wondered what decisions Master had made that made such consequences acceptable.

Master. His entire life was built around Master. He held no illusions about his creation, his shaping; he was purely an extension of Master's will. If Master was killed...where would that leave him? In a way, he himself was an assignment - Master's assignment - and as such, he could not permit Master to perish before his purpose was fulfilled. _:You're right,:_ he said, banishing the pond and the garden as soon as the decision was made, allowing the awareness of his body to take its place.There was an almost palpable relief as he accepted the new goal, felt his entire being relax into the familiar routine of assessment and preparation._ :Master doesn't know of the danger yet. I have to warn him - he must be told that the duke is actively searching for him once again. And the duke must be stopped.: _And he opened his eyes.

Kyn struggled for a moment to focus, hiccupped and had to try again when there was another mind-jogging shake, and then asked Alberich in a voice that rasped with disuse and annoyance, "Have you moved into the Healers' Hall now?"

The un-Herald frowned, but then a corner of his mouth quirked ever so slightly as he lowered Kyn back into the bed. "To thank I have you for that. The last full night's sleep came just before your Choosing, I believe."

Kyn coughed and cleared his throat noisily, rubbing his crusty eyes and trying to hide his shock at how unpracticed the simple gesture felt after three days of inactivity. "Wish I could say I was sorry."

* * *

And now I finally get to thank all of you wonderful reviewers. =) All of the things you've said have helped immeasurably in raising my spirits, and I would like to think that any praise I manage to garner is praise that is also, in a way, for my grandmother, who had been a teacher in China, in Taiwan, and then in the states to her grandchildren, and from whom I undoubtedly inherited the ability to write, albeit in a different language.

(Thank goodness for the ability to sort reviews by chapters...I would never remember where to start otherwise.) Be sure to scroll down; I've divided my replies into two sections by chapter, so I might've replied to you twice, split up inside the two sections.

Replies to chapter 8 reviews:

Shadowcat - Sorry it took me so long, but I did try to hurry, honest! Durned work and school...boots projects and finals out the window But, that aside, I'm very glad that the voice and tone is to your liking. Consistency has sometimes been a problem for me in the past, but I've been trying to tighten that up (along with many other things). I think I've been writing off and on since...junior high, I believe. It's hard to pinpoint. And I did take a writing seminar at my school (two semesters ago, I believe) back when I still held hopes out for a creative writing minor. Alas, I got slapped on the wrist for being greedy, and had to settle for only the English minor.

Jocelyn Magus - It is indeed. But the blockage is no longer perfect, as I think I managed to hint at in chapter 9a. Did it make sense to you? Did the point make it across in the chapter? (Btw, please continue to point out anything that doesn't make sense to you or seems like it's a contradiction; it helps keep me on my toes and locate errors that, as someone writing the darned thing, I can't see. I vastly appreciate how closely you're reading the story and the effort you make to tell me what's wrong with it so that it might be improved.)

Megan - Eep! o.O* Definitely not a fun deal. I am very happy to see that you're alive and well - at least, well enough to be surfing the web and reviewing, anyway. =P offers ice cream and cookies 

Tessie - Welcome! ^_^ I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself so far, and I hope I manage to continue entertaining you with future chapters.

Swift Shadows - Pretty much. =P (And yes, I know it's unforgivably vague for an author concerning what time period her story falls in, but I beg your indulgence until I scan through the last few books in the chronology again for details. I don't want to keep pestering you readers for the info when I should be doing the researching myself, but I don't want to stop writing completely either. So I'm trying to hedge around what I don't know right now in the hopes of filling in/correcting details when I finally do manage to get a hold of my books again without requiring massive rewrites.)

drunkenfairy - That's true. With Companions and Choice around, it is rather hard to imagine anything but repudiation or death standing in the way of Herald trainees. Still, the doubt everyone seemed to hold about whether Vanyel was made of the 'right stuff' in Magic's Pawn had made me wonder just how _sure_ everyone is about would-be Heralds, and so I've tried to convey that same sense of doubt here - considering the circumstances - while making it possible for the doubt itself to be in 'doubt'...as in, whether it really does exist outside of Kyn's own mind. At least...that's what I think I'm trying to do...it all just gets very confusing after a while. shrinks back into her corner to stare blankly at the wall

sky - Eh, I don't remember what my track record is by now, but...I think, at least, this part didn't take _quite_ as long as the last one. ^_^' And I'm sorry that Kyn's tangling with Alberich wasn't more _dramatic_, but that just seemed like a really nice place to end the chapter (as in, before I left a QWERTY imprint on my forehead when I fall asleep on my keyboard). I hope I didn't disappoint too badly, otherwise.

ola - *blush*

the-newly-christened M'cha Araem - laughs You're pretty spooky yourself, with how well you're managing to follow my line of thinking. I wonder if I should be worried that I'm getting that predictable... =P And thank you thank you thank you for that very specific example of what you liked. It gives me a lot more to work on concerning what really turned out well...and what was merely wishful thinking. snickers And from your review on the 9ath chapter, I gather that the pixie was suitably impressed by your temper tantru - er, your righteous fury and spiffy new pen name and finally played nice, yes? ^_^

Replies to chapter 9a reviews:

haiiro - I hope you don't mind being hugged. You've just vastly reassured me that I didn't hit completely off-target with that section. While the pace of things aren't going to let up (at least, not for the next chapter or two that I've got planned) I definitely wanted to build more character rather than sacrifice them all for excitement, but I also didn't want to bore people into just skipping on to the next action scene either. 9b continues that attempt, and I would hugely appreciate it if you'd let me know if I managed to keep that balance or dropped the ball somewhere along the line. =)

Megan - *BLUSH* Shhhh...at this rate, I'll have the entire world of writers out to get me for the presumption. ;) But thank you ever so much for the sentiment. sighs I just wish my grandmother had been able to read English...but then, maybe it was for the best that she hadn't. -.- I dunno if I would have lived down the embarrassment.

M'cha Araem - wiggles happily And thank you. (For the sympathies. Well, for the praise too, definitely, but that was directed specifically toward the latter paragraph. Hrm...maybe I should stop while I'm still ahead...if I was even ahead in the first place...oooookay, definitely time to go to bed...) And yeah, I lost both grandfathers before, but since I was either very young, or didn't know them very well, they didn't impact me near as much as her passing did.

kmina - Thank you. It hits hard every once in a while, when there's something I wish I could show her or give her, but all in all, there are no regrets.

ola - ^_^ And here is yet another one. And yes, I definitely wish I had the skill, time, and fortitude to write about her right now, but perhaps in the future, I'll be able to do so, and then her memory will not only be dependent on me or her immediate family to live on.

drunkenfairy - Thank ye. Kyn's finally beginning to realize he's not an island unto himself, and he'll be making a few more 'alliances' along the way.

Firefox - The effort you make to offer condolences is more than enough to make up for any perceived lack in being able to 'relate'. =) And that is truly an uplifting note; thank you.


	11. Intermission I

First off, my apologies. This is not the next part of the fic, though rest assured, it _is_ coming along. Rather limpingly, but I do believe that that's it just over the horizon (squint a bit - yup, that dot right there's it). Unfortunately, three moves in less than 2 weeks along with classes and a pseudo-promotion has left me with very little free time. Maybe I'll be able to finally crank out that next chapter while I'm squatting on Telegraph for the next three days waiting for my new apartment to be made available... =P I have one more move to make then (hopefully the last one for at least the next three months) and then I can finally settle down to see to other affairs...such as writing, sleeping, writing, studying, writing...

Anyway, the purpose of this posting is 1) to let you know I haven't abandoned the fic, and 2) to respond to the wonderful reviewers who have continued to write comments despite my long stretch of inactivity. =) Thank you, everyone, for checking in every once in a while; it is highly flattering to see that the story's drawn enough interest to warrant such effort.

haiiro - *beams* Wonderful. Though I'd say continue to keep a sharp eye on the ball, please...one of the reasons why part 11 is coming so slowly is that I keep rewriting it. I'm not very happy with the pacing of it; I think I'm trying to cram too much into the scenes and neglecting proper development in the process. But, I'll wait and see how it is received when it is actually posted. =P

Swift Shadows - I did, thank you very much! (Erm...sheepishly I do believe I replied, right? If I didn't, I humbly beg your forgiveness, and ask if you would consent to sending it again. I forgot to re-synch my mail files with my laptop when I stuck my main system into storage thwaps herself over the head and so I'm unable to access your original message to check right now and make sure that I did respond. I recall mulling over the reply to it, but not if I had actually sent off the draft.)

Pyrephox - Welcome, and thank you for the lovely comments. =) Actually, you brought up something that I had thought about long and hard myself, and I am going to lay out some of the points that I have come up with in doing so. I am then going to ask a huge favor: would you mind looking them over, and letting me know if I'm smoking something? Any suggestions you can offer would be greatly appreciated. Anyone else with thoughts on this matter is welcome to jump on the bandwagon as well. =)

- As I recall, Alberich had a tendency to speak excessively in the passive voice. When I read Thief, the fact that he did indeed sound like Yoda was what first caught my attention about the man. However, my memory is somewhat hazy on how far it actually went, so it may be I'm now over-emphasizing that trait. If you feel that strongly about it, I kind of have a feeling that this has, in fact, happened. ;) I'll try to get a better feel for what the man's speech patterns are like and mimic it without it becoming overwhelming. 

- Yes, I am aware that Alberich knows perfectly well how to speak 'proper' Valdemaran(?). I believe this knowledge was displayed a handful of times when he was undercover. (The very fact that he frequently dons other identities is proof that he is able to mask his typical habits of speech - there's no use in constructing another persona to have it all go to waste as soon as he opens his mouth.) I believe it is a matter of choice that he doesn't choose to speak as typical Valdemarans do. Habit can be a strong motivator by itself; I have had the two languages that I speak interfere with each other very frequently, in terms of both grammatical structure and literal translation of terms, even though I 'should have known better' if I had really stopped to think about what I say. Also, perhaps pure stubbornness itself can play a factor. After all, Yoda is how many centuries old, with how many of those spent as the head of the Jedi council arbitrating galaxy-wide conflicts and spear-heading the Jedi order's interests - and he still doesn't know how to string a sentence together in the active voice? It is my feeling that it is a combination of these and other factors that makes Alberich such a...'unique' conversationalist. Maybe he feels no need to redefine himself so completely, though he has whole-heartedly devoted himself to Valdemar's cause, and my parents are proof enough that even years spent in a country that speaks another language other than the one they grew up with can do funny things to the way they talk. =P (I'll admit that I have not read the story about Alberich's Choosing, so all of this is pure conjecture. I hope I don't sound too high-handed here, because I really am asking for any and all input that you may have, and not merely trying to justify my portrayal of Alberich to the exclusion of all other considerations.)

Jocelyn Magus - Thank you, and I'm trying to (as my multiple rewrites of part 11 has shown, at least to me). =P 

ola - facepaws Some people are dyslexic. I have a problem with homophones. Thank you very much for pointing that out; I'll correct it when I upload the new part.

M'cha Araem - patpats Fanfiction just doesn't seem to like your reviews, does it? =) And with such an emphatic order as that, how can I disobey? Hopefully I'll have something for you in one and a half to two weeks from now. ^_^

Megan - Quite all right. After all, I haven't posted in quite a long while as well, and in the end, you _did_ review. bounces happily Thank you for such a wonderful compliment. I hope I won't disappoint after building up all these expectations and then finally unravel the plotlines. 


	12. The Words Between: part 10

While watching Attack of the Clones in the movie theatre:

Padme: "Oh Anakin, I'll always remember you as that little boy back on Tatooine."

From somewhere in the audience behind me: "D'oh!"

The Words Between - part 10

The ceiling was unfamiliar.

It occurred to Kyn, while staring up at the dark wooden beams criss-crossing the space above him, that he might never see the gray slabs comprising the ceiling of his room in the manse ever again. He had been living at the collegium for two months and twelve days now...far, far longer than he could ever remember being away. Last night, after he had feigned exhaustion to stave off the questions, he had lain awake trying to remember if he had felt even the tiniest bit of foreboding before setting out for the capitol. The faintest hint.

He couldn't remember. It irked him, that he couldn't recall anything out of the ordinary on that day, or the day before that. There was just a cloudy haze of events that would have occurred on any other day, and nothing to point toward the unbelievable series of circumstances that would have ended with him lying in a bed in the collegium Healer's Hall staring at a ceiling not his own. 

How could he possibly not have foreseen something like this? True, his vision was often limited to the day, perhaps a week at the stretch...but what he had seen involving the duke was proof enough that his Sight could pick up things farther into the future - perhaps if they held sufficient weight.

He would have thought his induction into the Heralds' fold for nearly two and a half months would have carried sufficient weight.

Fingers curled in the blanket's folds, and in the cloth of the shirt over his chest, clenching against the pressure building within. Something that felt tantalizingly like frustration, or perhaps anger, and tasting too much like despair. He couldn't describe it, and didn't care to examine it, just turned his head from the sight of the unfamiliar ceiling and studiously ignored the strange, unwelcome sensation with a deep breath and then a second one to loosen the tension.

_When can I go back, Master? When can I return?_

Shuddering, he banished all musings from his mind with a growl, pushing himself up and swinging his feet off the side of the bed. There were thin shoes laid out nearby, little more than slippers to stave off the chill of stone floors in the mornings. With the lack of anything else appropriate in sight, they - and the simple off-white shirt and leggings he was currently dressed in - would have to do.

_:What do you think you're doing?:_

_:Walking,:_ Kyn replied promptly, and studiously ignored the fact that it could only be called 'walking' by the strictest application of its definition. 'Staggering' would have been closer to the truth, at least to describe the first few ventured steps away from the bed.

Sianni was not as conservative with her thoughts. _:You're _leaning_, not walking. You should be in bed.:_

_:I have had enough of bed.:_ Never mind that he hadn't exactly been aware the entire time - at least, aware of the bed, anyway - and self-consciously tried to straighten, dropping his hand when he had been about to reach toward the wall. With a little practice and a lot of denial, he managed to recapture the details, if not the spirit, of his usual stride. _Enough of bed, and enough of thinking._

_:Your body apparently doesn't hold the same opinion.:_

_:Just tell me how to get out of here before I embarrass myself.:_

Sianni pretended to consider the matter, and eventually opined, _:Now, we can't have that, can we? You'll want to make a left after the door, then. Take the first hallway to the left. It should open up into the main hall, and there are exits directly from there.:_

The rapid acquiescence saved Sianni from a most unkind response despite the gentle teasing she was so careful to couch her words in, and he even managed a grudging, _:Thanks,:_ as he traced a mostly steady path by the directions Sianni had given. Thankfully, he found that movement became more and more practiced with every second that passed, recovery hastened along with a few jogged steps and deep breaths as impromptu warm-up, until he felt more or less himself by the time he had reached his destination. The only lingering effects he could find were a touch of stiffness and a lightheadedness that could be the combined results of long-term inactivity and lack of solid foods - or, perhaps, a present from the drugs still craved by his body and the duke's visit. Nevertheless, the few symptoms were easily ignorable, which left him with a relatively clear enough mind to start the research he needed to perform. The research he should have done, he had to admit to himself, as soon as he had learned of the duke and his importance to Master. He had grown lax, allowing Master or others to compile the necessary information for him on previous assignments, and become lazy in his methods. But this was still rectifiable, as soon as he slipped out of the building...

Luck wasn't with him, however. He found his way to the main hall easily enough, but one of the handful of people that happened to be there was Nadia, and the woman's eyes found him as unerringly as a lodestone to iron when he wandered in.

_:I had no idea she was there.:_

_:A little quick to deny, aren't we?:_ he retorted, but there was more resignation than ire in the thought. It didn't really matter if Sianni had intentionally led him to the healer or not; the heralds would most likely be searching for him as soon as they realized he was awake, and he would rather speak with Nadia than anyone else at the moment. At least with the healer, he could be sure that she would keep any meetings as brief as possible, and perhaps any clashes that might arise between her and the un-Herald afterwards would buy him even more time. When Nadia frowned and crooked a finger, he barely paused before pushing away from the doorless jamb.

Someone was already there arguing with the healer; someone in the blue uniform of a trainee, wrapped in an expensive gray cloak with the hood thrown back. Wine-red hair was braided into an elaborate, sleek plait riddled with tiny clips and combs that gleamed gold - and which may very well have been the genuine metal rather than some cleverly painted facsimile.

"It is barely visible as it is, and with what rouge you wear already, I wouldn't have even noticed it if you hadn't pointed it out," Nadia was saying with remarkable patience as Kyn drew within earshot, and a vague, sourceless feeling of unease curled through his center.

_:Because you're a big, strapping male?:_

_:What?:_

_:She is never that gentle with you because you are a big, strapping male.:_

He frowned. _:I didn't say anything.:_

_:You didn't have to.:_ More than a trace of smugness.

His frown deepened, even as a tiny, rebellious part deep within welcomed the distraction from his contemplation. It was far too easy to slip into introspectiveness today. _:You are mocking me.:_

_:Maybe the big, strapping part, but unless there's something you wish to tell me, not the latter.:_

Mennifei, in direct contrast, was anything but calm as the set of her shoulders stiffened beneath the cloak. "Do not patronize me. You are a healer, are you not? So heal it! If it is such a small matter, then the sooner it is done, the sooner either of us can go about our business."

Nadia bristled. Kyn could have sworn that what hair that had worked loose from her habitual braid fairly frizzed and stood on end like the fur on a startled cat's tail. "Now who is being patronizing?" the healer all but squeezed out through clenched teeth, leaning toward the other young woman in unconscious intimidation. Either pride or true blindness held Mennifei steady before the healer's irritated glower. "You have a funny way of asking people for their help, _min_ Se'Fannouel. I suggest you leave now, before I balance that mark with another one on the other side." An odd accent seemed to slip into the healer's words along with the unfamiliar title, a curious stretching of the vowels that left a tang of sea-salt in Kyn's mind and made him blink in surprise.

_:Where is Nadia from?:_

_:Why don't you ask her?:_

A beat._ :Thank you, I'll pass.:_

Mennifei's head reared back in surprise. Still behind her, Kyn didn't catch the noblewoman's expression, but the outrage was plain in her voice. "How dare you speak to me like that!"

"You might be the ultimate authority in your father's house - or pretend to be - " A short pause ensued that Kyn couldn't quite interpret, one in which Nadia's mouth twitched grimly and Mennifei made a small, choked sound of fury, before the healer finished with a glance past her toward Kyn, " - but this is _my_ domain, and you have less weight here than the first year initiates into this hall, much less me. Now if you please, I have some more important cases to see to."

Mennifei swayed in place, as if equally guided in either direction by invisible forces: the need to retreat from further humiliation, and the need to confront the aggressor. Kyn could almost imagine the young noblewoman's mouth opening and closing in mute frustration as she tried to gather retaliatory words, and he edged forward out of morbid curiosity to see if reality would prove just as entertaining as his imagination.

The young woman's head whipped about as she caught his motion out of the corners of her eyes - eyes that were wide in shocked outrage, mouth indeed pursed in indecision, cheeks flushed...except for one spot sitting high on the ridge of her left cheekbone. An angrier red than the surrounding skin, the beginnings of a light bruise was just beginning to lend the area a soft plum tinge.

_"You."_

The malice contained in the one syllable snapped Kyn's attention from the bruise to Mennifei's narrowed eyes.

"_You_ are the cause of all this!" the noblewoman hissed, advancing a step toward him and leading with an accusatory finger stabbed toward his nose. Even as he slid an equal step away from her, carefully drawing his head out of range, his gaze was caught by light glancing off metal centered on the back of her finger, bright enough that Kyn wondered for a brief, wild moment if she was intent on attacking him with some sort of hidden weapon. 

But logic caught up with reflex before he could do more than flinch back, a split second's longer observation proving that she intended no physical harm. Instead, the sun had merely gleamed off a silver band on her index finger, an innocent wink overlaid by Sight until it had nearly blinded him.

Foresight that had noted before he did that she wore a ring. A simple silver ring. A ring bearing a seal of a stylized griffin in bas-relief.

_Se'Fannouel. The griffin is a Se'Fannouel. Mennifei - the duke - is the griffin._

"It was because of _you_ that father...that father..." The hand she had used to accuse him flew to her offended cheek, as if by that simple gesture she could mask the emotional hurt along with the physical one.

Kyn stared at her, barely registering the words and her mixed look of hate, frustration, and...and...was she trying to withhold tears? He could barely focus on any one thought long enough to grasp its meaning before it was rudely shoved aside by another.

_If they are the griffin, then is Master the fox, in direct opposition? It was the duke who caused that bruise. He is still within the capitol. She has just recently seen him...if I wish, I might still have another chance...why has he remained? A trap...am I bait in a trap for Master? Master was gentry, he had family, a seal, a crest...is the fox a part of it? I could - with a name and a crest, I could find Master's true name if I so wished...how much does she know?_

"I'll have to admit, I'm rather glad of your indiscriminate ability to drive people away right now."

Kyn belatedly turned to focus on Nadia at her dry comment, and only after it registered did he quickly turn again to realize that Mennifei had all but fled the hall, already disappearing out of the nearest exit with only a swirling edge of satin-trimmed cloak to identify her passing.

"I'm running out of time...I need to know - things are - " He abruptly sucked in a breath, consciously trying to halt the tumble of thoughts that fed each other into ever more convoluted tracks.

"What are you babbling about? Did you hit your head on the way here?"

Kyn's mouth opened, then closed without so much as a word as he stared at the healer, the fragile chain of deductions and implications interrupted. "No, I didn't...the duke is still here? Mennifei had been in the way...he wasn't supposed to be here and neither was she..." He shook himself, violently, abruptly noticing the far too sharp look in Nadia's eyes. No, he didn't want the Heralds to know yet, not when it was all still muddled and unsorted in his own mind. "I don't have time for this," he managed to squeeze into a reasonable facsimile of a churlish tone, pushing past to follow after Mennifei.

"Hold on there! Where do you think you're running off to? While you might have received plenty of rest over the past three days, I'd make a fair wager you can't - "

"I said there's no time!" Kyn insisted, not even bothering to attempt another excuse, trying to keep up with the pell-mell pace of his own thoughts. Something was just out of his reach; he could all but feel the Foresight waiting, crouched, on the peripheries of his mind, needing only the right combination of realizations to trigger the unfurling of vision...

_Griffins-foxes-rings-bloodties-sorcery-promises-names-pacts-pride -_ there!

He staggered, feet tripping over themselves in their haste to shift sideways when an illusory wall suddenly reared up before his mind's eye.

_:Kyn, listen to Nadia. There is nothing that can't wait for at least a cursory examination.:_

He pressed the heel of one hand against his forehead, sucking air sharply through his teeth as he struggled to regain his equilibrium, and eventually found it when the vision reluctantly faded. _:She's already examined me for the past three days. Nothing has changed since then beyond my physical waking.:_ Blinking, he realized he was already beyond the first arch out of the main hall, taking him out of immediate sight of Nadia, who had not followed.

_:Then for my peace of mind, please. Nadia is not about to chase you down when you're able enough to walk out on her - no doubt she'll allow Melidee or Alberich the dubious honor of doing so, though you'll have at least half a candlemark's reprieve as neither are on the grounds currently - but it might save you some embarrassment later on if you relapse.:_

A vague feeling of relief curled through him at the thought of not needing to fend off the both of them at once. But even as he straightened, drawing a metaphorical breath for his next retort, the lines of the short corridor leading to the outside foyer blurred...

_:Kyn?:_

This time, one shoulder hit the wall with painful solidness when he lurched to the side, breath and wits stolen by surprise as the second vision took a hold of him with the same suddenness and strength of the first. _ A second? There should be no second...there has never been a second..._

Mennifei was supposed to die. She was going to die...within the next candlemark. But no...she was also supposed to die...later?

Kyn staggered to a halt, overtaken by confusion as the last hazy wisps of Sight finally released him.

_:Kyn, what did you see? Are you all right?:_

What was happening? This was the first time he had seen two occurrences that patently couldn't coexist - he was seeing Mennifei's death twice, in two different circumstances, occurring at two different times. There was no mistaking the wide, empty eyes staring lifelessly at the sky, framed by the dirty cobblestones of a deserted alleyway - he knew death well enough to know what it looked like. And the second vision, her second death, which had arrived so closely on the heels of the first that they had nearly blended into an indistinguishable montage of nonsensical scenes, scenes which he had been given no time to process individually...there, her father had presided over his daughter's body, one hand gently smoothing back her hair with a single tear trailing down his face - while he held the cup that collected the still-warm blood rolling down her pale fingertips.

_:Hush, Sianni. I...I am all right. I was just...unprepared and tripped.:_

_:And that should be all the proof you need that all is not well with you.:_

_:Well enough if that is the first and only time I've done so since rising. Now leave me be.:_

Kyn ground the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, gritting his teeth in frustration. What was he to do in a situation such as this? Before, he always had one sure path - either the outcome was desirable, and he followed the details exactingly, or he made sure he avoided them. The results were rarely so ambiguous that he was not absolutely certain that the alternative would be better or worse than the foretelling. Usually, it would all boil down to what Master wanted from him, and Kyn knew precisely what was expected from him by the man. Or, he had. _So, if not Master's will, whose directs the visions now?_

Uncertain, but restless enough that even indecision couldn't hold him for long, Kyn started down the same paths that Mennifei had taken. The timing was undoubtedly critical, but when there were no other clues...death was too permanent. If she died now, nothing in the world could undo it if he had need of her later on. But if she survived, and it soon became clear that matters would turn for the better if she were dead instead...it would be a simple matter to rectify that mistake. And, if nothing else, he _knew_ she was important somehow. The fact that his Sight had focused on her at all was proof of that.

He actually had to break into a trot on a few occasions to keep her in sight, with as much of a lead as she had and the sharp, half-reflexive turns she made, as if letting instinct and memory alone guide her steps rather than conscious thought. Caught between the itch of foreboding and the prodding of curiosity, Kyn felt equally torn between catching up to confront her directly, and trailing her indefinitely to see where she intended to go while she thought she was not under observation. So far the latter urge was winning, but only because he had yet to formulate exactly what he would confront her about. _Why do you wear a ring bearing the seal of a griffin? Why did your father hit you? What do you know of your father's schemes? Have you participated in any blood rites lately?_ He shook his head at the sharp facetiousness of the last question, and admonished himself for the woolgathering as he forcibly cut off the train of thought. _Focus._ For some unknown reason, he couldn't seem to keep a firm hold on any one thought today, and one slid fish-slippery into another and another without pause.

Sianni took it upon herself to pace them from a distance as soon as they left the healers, keeping them just within sight while she walked, trotted, and occasionally galloped back and forth, masking her intentions in play, snorting and pawing at the occasional, remaining tuft of ratweed seedpods. There was a strange sort of reassurance in the thought of the Companion's promised assistance, literally only a thought away...a reassurance that he wasn't sure he should let himself grow used to. He should have resented the idea that he might ever require assistance, berated himself for even entertaining a scenario that he would not be able to handle on his own. But now...he could barely even find the upset that such a radical shift in outlook should have engendered.

Mennifei had been making her way steadily across the campus grounds - a not unusual occurrence considering her quarters were located opposite the Healers' Hall. But soon, she passed even the last of the buildings associated with the campus, headed directly for the western gate, and when they passed beyond, Sianni broke off and wheeled back to the Companion fields with a playful snort...while sending a last touch of warmth and reassurance after him that he didn't reflexively rebuff.

_Focus._

The inn at which the duke had been staying at - may still be residing in, presently - passed blithely to their left, garnering not even a glance from the young noblewoman. His suspicions were only confirmed as the Mennifei headed past the usual haunts of trainees clustered near the collegium grounds, and turned directly into the less used byways that wound between dwellings and stores, deserted alleys that she should never have given a second glance to, much less entered. He had not exerted too much effort in concealing his trailing, but he had hardly broadcasted that fact either. Considering her upbringing, he was mildly impressed by this evidence of her observational skills - or, at least, by the level of her paranoia. Arrogant and secure as a woman of high standing, Mennifei should never have given even a second thought to being spied on. Which made it all the more interesting to Kyn as to what she felt she needed to hide, something that ate incessantly at him as the unofficial chase dragged on, until he had nearly made up his mind to catch up and confront her directly, regardless of what preparation he had...

"Why are you following me."

_Focus!_ The mental admonishment followed closely on chagrin as he abruptly stopped, halfway around a corner, confronted by the narrow-eyed, unamused visage of Mennifei not three paces away. She must have doubled back after turning the corner - or stopped just outside of sight altogether, waiting for him to round it. There was no helping his wandering attention at the moment, though. "I was concerned for your safety," he responded after a beat, grasping the first excuse that came to mind.

Mennifei laughed, the sound practiced and cultured, marred only by an unmistakable note of derision. "Safety?" she scoffed, mouth curling with sharp amusement. "And what sort of safety can a boy recently risen from a sickbed offer? Or," she continued in a lower register, voice turned husky and coquettishly mocking, head tilted just-so with eyes half-lidded, "am I supposed to believe _you_ the threat?"

"You can believe what you want." _Focus._ "But the truth remains, no matter what you think." There was a soft, indeterminate sound nearby, one that had been made by neither of them. _Focus. Almost there...just a little longer..._

The young woman abruptly stiffened, something in his words thinning her lips to a white, bloodless line as two high spots of color touched her cheeks. "And what do you think you know, _boy_?" she nearly hissed with clear venom.

The derogatory appellation nearly slid off without notice. All too acquainted with its usage by Master and instructors, Kyn barely registered the attempt to rile him as anything but an interesting attempt at deflecting his attention, feeding his curiosity all the more as he studied her reaction and matched it with the recent confrontation with the healer. _:Sianni?:_

_:Alberich has been notified. I can be there in less than five marks.:_

_:Wait.:_ He needed to be sure first. The walls looked the same, but who knew how many alleys in the capitol were built with the same methods and materials? "I know enough to say you are doing something very foolish - "

Mennifei's expression tightened in anger, half-raising her hand as if thinking of striking him, the ring's band glittering on her finger. "I will show you foolish, you common - !" 

Behind her, the glint of metal was repeated when two shadows stepped into the same alley, rapidly gaining speed as they advanced, lips peeling back from yellowed teeth in satisfaction upon seeing two young, supposedly easy targets.

_:Sianni, they are here.:_ Focus. Clear thoughts and immediate area of distractions, and focus. A rapid slide forward and one sweep of the arm served to shove a startled and spluttering noblewoman to the side, and he used the last few seconds to lower and test his stance, compensating for whatever balance or alacrity he might have lost in his recent bed stay. Breathe in, breathe out, scan the surroundings one last time - note the third man lurking nearby, neither approaching or departing yet, and dismiss him as irrelevant in the moment - before devoting attention completely to the targets as they moved within reach.

The assignment was all that mattered, a point that Master had personally emphasized and had his instructors underscore in his lessons. Their teachings told him to focus on the two immediate threats, to ignore the third unknown element and the girl stumbling into the wall of the wide alleyway. To divide his attention was to invite failure, to allow other concerns fatal precedence at that one, crucial second - and yet, he found himself not quite able to ignore that third man as completely as he could have. Should have. He couldn't help but wonder what the man's purpose was if not to join the attack. He couldn't help checking on the progress of Sianni's path through the capitol's streets. He couldn't help speculating on what business the weaponsmaster had been on...and why Sianni had seen fit to call him.

_Focus!_

Reflexes snapped into action even as the mind struggled to catch up, barely requiring a single coherent thought to guide them, finding in such close quarters that response-time is almost more important than strategy. It was the training that was supposed to ingrain the proper assessments and responses beforehand, when there was no time in the thick of a melee to consciously lay out one's choice of targets. Pure instinct judged the speeds of the two men, determined that the left-hand one was slower by a fraction of a second, and pushed Kyn to dart into the right-hand man's reach, arms raised overhead and crossed to take the fall of the man's blow. Letting the makeshift club whistle by his ear with a lazy incline of his head, he bent his knees as the man's forearm fell neatly into the bracket of his arms. Twisting fluidly around to guide the overhand swing's momentum past, his left hand flattened on the forearm and slid down the meaty wrist, using it as a guide to grasp the back of the man's hand and stretch the limb out. A deft twist brought the man hopping forward, off balance, and locked the elbow into immobility at an uncomfortable angle - one that swiftly became even more uncomfortable as Kyn brought his right shoulder up sharply from beneath, snapping the arm. The man had only time to suck in a sharp breath, eyes widening in surprise, when Kyn was already sliding out from under the dangling limb - to abruptly arch back and to the side, a hastily outflung hand saving him from crashing headfirst against the cobblestones as a blade whisked by his temple. _A knife._ For the space of a single heartbeat, the comfortable rhythm of assessment and reaction stuttered, nearly frozen to a halt in indecision.

Over a decade's worth of training called for the most expedient and sureproof route to the objective, and demanded that the lethal weapon be claimed and turned on the attackers. But a new imperative was intruding, one that had been taught in far less time - but which had a much fresher foothold. One that called for disablement, rather than death. One that, if he had had the time to think it through, he might have indulged for the sake of leaving behind a source of information to be interrogated later. _Why does the third man not help his companions? Why do these two press their attack when they find their quarry not as defenseless as they had thought? What is the purpose behind their actions?_

But there was no time, and he had no patience left. There was an absurd, rootless flash of fury at Alberich and the Heralds for somehow corrupting even this last remnant of his old life, and in another heartbeat, the decision was made.

A precious split-second lost, he followed through into an improvised roll rather than try to stop and reorient himself upright. A glance was all it took to realize the angles needed, and fast-twitch muscles immediately pulled his outside shoulder close halfway through the controlled tumble, adjusted the fall of his left foot just so to provide the necessary leverage when it landed, and sent his right leg flashing out to smash the ball of his foot against the side of the second attacker's knee. There was a wet _pop_ as the joint gave beneath the blow, the man staggering and his lips peeling back from his teeth in a blank grimace as his mind began to process the first angry signals from the injury. Kyn took shameless advantage of the distraction to complete the maneuver into a half-kneeling position, reaching out to grasp the man's wrist and break his thumb before palming the knife for himself. An unconscious heft imprinted the knowledge of its weight and balance in his muscles, and shifted the haft into a comfortable grip in his fist. As the first man's initial cry was finally voiced and the club was picked up by the unbroken arm, he pushed off the ground with the abruptness of a coiled spring to slice through the stubble-dotted throat...continued the swing with a half-turn to plunge the blade into the side of the second man's neck with more memory and instinct to guide him than sight. 

Unconsciably hasty. Unforgivably sloppy. If they had not reacted exactly as he had expected, he would have missed completely - stupid, to trust his success to chance and the predictability of other people's reactions. But he was long past the point of objective analysis and cared only that the job was done. A sharp tug disengaged the knife, the same movement leading into a guarded stance as he turned smoothly to assess his surroundings for further threats. 

Mennifei's scream nearly stopped his heart in sheer startlement. Safely outside the area around him in which he might have considered her an immediate threat, he had all but forgotten she was there. She was staring at him, eyes wide enough that he could see a rim of white all around, mouth open as she drew a shuddering breath to scream again.

Cursing the fates, he rushed toward her, had to hastily readjust his strategy when instead of screaming, she sobbed and stumbled back, pale hands fluttering up to push his own away when he reached to take a hold of her. Slapping them roughly aside, he wrapped his left arm around her middle, half-lifting her as he leveraged her weight over his hip and hauled them both into the shadow of a building with an untidy lurch. The shrieks began again with the man-handling, this time indignation mixing with the hysteria, but he had as little patience for it as its former incarnation and shifted his hold to slap a hand over her mouth, arm braced cross-wise across her torso and one foot hooking around hers to hold her as immobile as possible while he kept his knife-arm free. "Quiet!" he hissed before she could think of other ways in which to rebel. Eyes darting over the area, watching for the third man that had not attacked with the other two, he punctuated his command with a sharp shake of her head. "Unless you wish to die. In which case, I will save them the trouble and snap your neck now."

There was an angry huff against his hand, and he wondered if she was going to try and bite him. But perhaps she had begun to remember just what the men had intended - and his part in dispatching them - for, a long moment later, he felt her relax fractionally and give a short, jerky nod. Letting his hand slip slightly from her face, he warned, "Don't think of trying to trick me by screaming when I let you go."

This time she made a sound of impatience, slapping his arm away from her and whirling around, backing up a step to face him just beyond arm's length. Cheeks flushed, eyes glittering, even her hair falling in a disarrayed halo about her face as if it crackled with the fury that radiated from her - Kyn found the absurd thought straying through his mind that he could objectively understand why Stef kept trying to claim her, despite his frequent failures. There was a strange, fascinating thrill in confronting a riled Mennifei...somewhat like being faced with an un-Herald with bared knives in his hands. "Do not presume that I am on your level of petty trickery," she spat, hugging her arms around herself. "And if you ever touch me again, my father will have your manhood served to you on his best china."

Kyn's brows inched upward before he redirected his attention to their surroundings, absently giving the knife a sharp flick to rid it off excess blood. There was no helping the rapidly cooling and congealing mess a few feet from them, but there was no need to have the stuff dripping on him if he had to wield the knife again. "I would be impressed if he cared that much about you to attempt such." 

He didn't know at first what had prompted the comment. A vague picture had become to form in his mind about Mennifei and her relations to her father...and it was oddly unsatisfying seeing his suspicions confirmed, the ones drawn by the evidence of the bruise and Nadia's cutting words, the sudden draining of blood from the young noblewoman's face and the faint sway in her stance until he thought she might faint after all the excitement - though from anger or despair, he wasn't sure. 

Despite her desperate fawnings, she knew her worth - or lack of it - to the duke. Beyond the fineness of features and haughtiness of demeanor, it seemed she had also inherited a part of her father's keen mind, and it told her in no uncertain terms where she fell in the duke's concerns, even if she tried to ignore the futility of making it otherwise. What he had yet to understand was why she appeared so upset by that fact. For someone of her temperament, he would have thought the duke's affection of secondary importance. Or, perhaps, it was merely the lack of control over the duke that she was protesting.

"How _dare_ you..."

"Give me a threat that I can take seriously, and _then_ I might not dare more," he cut her off, reaching for her elbow, having ascertained as best he could that the third man was no longer in the vicinity and wanting nothing more than to hustle her back toward the collegium. With the ebb of adrenaline, he could feel the lethargy and a warning stiffness creeping into his muscles. The fight had been short but intense, and without the added benefit of a warm-up after such a long period of complete inactivity, he suspected he might have come close to straining something.

"I said don't touch me!" Mennifei snapped, an edge of panic pushing her voice close to a screech before she flushed and whirled around.

Kyn huffed in annoyance, started to chase her down, and might have said or done something he would regret later on when he was saved by the sound of approaching hoofbeats. The young noblewoman paused uncertainly, a rare, skittish wariness entering her posture, but when the riders revealed themselves as two Companions - one of which bore the darkly scowling figure of the weaponsmaster - and a handful of the city guards, she wasted no time in fleeing toward them, sobbing incoherently. 

Kyn had to wonder how many of her tears were genuine, especially when she unerringly swerved right past the dismounting un-Herald - despite his position at the point of the group - and into the sympathetic arms of the guard's squad leader. It did not escape Kyn's notice that the squad leader was not bad looking at all, though he had to give Mennifei the benefit of the doubt - that she had headed for the next in the chain of command that would prove more pliable than Alberich, rather than purely for his physical characteristics.

"Lucky, you were."

His eyes slid up toward the stony facade of the weaponsmaster, Alberich having pulled up beside him to observe the bodies lying sprawled on the cobblestones, two of the guard already crouching down next to the corpses with the rest either exploring the other passageways nearby or trying to calm Mennifei into a clear account of the events. Shrugging, Kyn left the comment uncontested as he reflexively searched for a cloth or napkin on him, to wrap the blade to keep it from staining before he found an appropriate method for discarding it discreetly.

A hand clamped down on the wrist of his knifehand, the grip harsh and uncompromising. Kyn froze, registering the implicit threat, and looked up once again at the un-Herald, uncertain of what had raised the man's ire.

"Enjoy, did you, their killing?" Alberich asked with a steely stare, his voice pitched low and for their ears only.

Kyn sucked in a sharp breath, annoyed and angry at the unfair presumption. "No, I do not enjoy killing," he growled, far too conscious of the guards' proximity though they currently seemed to be providing the weaponsmaster a wide berth. "Master would never have allowed it. Enjoying such a thing would destroy my ability to prioritize objectives; it would get in the way of my work."

Alberich's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening a fraction. "The master's not allowing it and your not feeling it - follow the one after the other, they do not necessarily."

"Wrong!" Kyn hissed, giving his arm a sharp tug and feeling no surprise at all when he failed to break free, but unable to help himself. He would _not_ tolerate this line of presumptions! "I _am_ Master's will. I am his hands, feet, eyes and mouth. I perform where he cannot. There is nothing I would do outside of his command!"

_:Oh, Chosen.:_

He was stunned enough by the sudden, smothering sense of sadness that flowed through him with the three syllables that he nearly didn't catch himself when Sianni inserted her bulk, Alberich falling back as he did with a rare, wide-eyed surprise. The un-Herald had released his hold reflexively when the Companion had calmly nosed her way through, and then drawn himself to his full height as she remained standing insolently between them. Kyn, shaken and confused, hardly aware that his body seemed to press itself to the warm curve of her barrel of its own volition, braced himself and peeked over the gentle slope of her back.

_What are you doing, Sianni? Why are you intervening?_

If Alberich had been a man given to rages, his face might have been florid by now. Though he looked as calm and controlled as he ever did, there was a...'tension' that seemed to vibrate in every stiff-drawn line of his form, a promise of things that managed to make something inside Kyn tremble as none but Master had ever been able to do.

"Attempting what foolishness are you, Sianni?"

Sianni turned and lowered her head to focus one cerulean eye on the man._ :Merely trying to avert your own.:_ Kyn pressed closer to the warm hide which he couldn't quite manage to pull himself away from, and swallowed an attempt to warn her that such baiting was dangerous and ultimately worthless. There was nothing to be gained from direct opposition, and everything to letting the weaponsmaster have his say and then moving on to more important matters. All words were but water to be shed off the fowl's back with a shiver.

_Then you should not have retorted,_ a traitorous corner of his mind noted. _If his words truly did not matter, you would not have acknowledged them with an argument._

"The only foolishness to be found here is in protecting the boy," Alberich continued in the same, low, deadly tone. There was never any sense of a loss of control, no forgetting of where they stood and those who might be observing. Yet the un-Herald managed to convey, all the same, the depth of his displeasure in softly uttered words. 

_:This _boy_, as you have noted, cannot benefit from such badgering. I will not allow you to continue in such a vein.:_

Alberich frowned, the first expression to occupy his mien after the icy demeanor had wiped the bald-faced shock at Sianni's actions from it. Almost absent-mindedly, he reached back with a hand, to lay it unerringly on the shoulder of Kantor who had drawn up silently behind his Chosen during the conversation. "Respect your Choice I do, and the wisdom of a Companion. But perfect you are not; mistakes can be made. If this is one...afford the consequences we cannot."

_:Listen to yourself!:_ Sianni snorted, going so far as to scrape one silvery hoof over the cobblestones in her frustration, drawing a spark and a strangely resonant chime through the air. _:Kyn is _not_ a mistake. Did you hear what he said? He barely thinks of himself as an identity outside of his master's! You can't tell me that it is any fault of his own?:_

"The fault is not of concern to me, nor even the blame," Alberich continued relentlessly. "But ignore the danger that comes with him we cannot. It is that element which I address; the rest gladly do I leave to others."

_:You may say so, but do you deny that what I had just heard was anything less than the beginnings of a harangue?:_

The weasponmaster released a breath of impatience. "Lying behind me, two bodies there are. What chances had they, would you say? Enough of the boy's training I know to say that their deaths were unnecessary. Yet dead they are. Quickly enough, I would judge, that attempt at disablement and capture had not been made." Ignored till now, Kyn suddenly found himself the uncomfortable center of the unblinking gaze. "Attempt to tell us, would you have, that time you had used to attempt dissuasion?"

Kyn stared back for a moment, and then pushed away from Sianni, settling his weight solidly on his own two feet. "No," he whispered, the confusion and uncertainty fleeing as he mentally braced himself. "I would have told you there was no point."

Alberich turned to meet Sianni's gaze, and eloquently raised an eyebrow.

Unexpectedly piqued, Kyn ground his teeth and added, "Because they would not have listened. Beyond the fact that they would have laughed at any warning I would have given, their payment and the watcher would have ensured that they would have carried through with their assignment."

All eyes were suddenly fixated on him, two sets of jewel-bright blue, and one the color and tensile strength of steel. "What did you say?" Alberich asked with deceptive quiet, advancing a step despite Sianni's pointed obstruction.

Kyn motioned toward the guardsmen with a tilt of his chin, those that still stood politely just out of earshot, the investigation having wound down in the meantime as the evidence spoke for itself. Mennifei, not quite as tearful but still clinging to the squad leader, was narrating some portion of her ordeal as one hand strayed toward her bruised cheek with a fragile, elegant motion, eyes sliding from the cooling bodies with a delicate shudder and fixing on Kyn across the scene. "They must have been paid. There were no demands, no words attempted. They wanted to kill her - she would have died if I hadn't interfered. There was a third man - he was to make sure that they did what they were paid to do."

"Sure are you of this?" Sharply delivered, but almost more rhetorical in nature than anything else, as Alberich continued almost without pause, "Of what importance is the girl? Of what necessity is her death?"

"I Saw it," Kyn said, regardless of whether an answer was required or not. "She was to die - now, or later. I don't know why, and I don't care..." But he did. He wanted to know why it was important enough for him to know of her death, important enough that he would be placed in a position to stop it. He wanted to know why he saw it twice, and why he had been given no direction as to which event would have been preferable. He wanted to know if he had made the best decision, if he had been right in preventing the first, because if it had really been the second that needed to be prevented, and the first had been the surest way of doing so...

His breath caught on incipient horror as one single, idle thought snaked its way through his mind, coiling about his chest and squeezing with relentless force.

The second death would occur at the duke's hands. Mennifei had been laid out like a sacrifice, her blood collected in a chalice held in his hand. Her death, in the second vision, could only be of benefit to Se'Fannouel...and who would oppose that? Who knew enough, hated enough, to be able stand directly in the path of the duke's plans? Who would - could - enlist others to perform his tasks for him, all centered on the goal of thwarting the duke in every possible way?

Master. He had just opposed Master's will.

Kyn turned and fled, not caring if Alberich and the guard rode him down, the knife dropping from his guilty hand and clattering to rest on the stones.


	13. The Words Between: part 11a

There had been a third man, an observer, and no doubt he had not only observed the failure of the two men to dispatch Mennifei Se'Fannouel, but the reason for their failure as well. Any description given of Kyn could easily describe dozens of youths residing in Haven...but Master would know exactly who it was. Master always knew.

_:Kyn! You don't need to run from us, please...:_

_It's not you I'm running from._ Kyn skidded around a corner and nearly ran full-tilt into an overweight matron fumbling with a set of keys before a door, earning himself a startled squawk of outrage that he barely heard in his hurry to run...where? Where could he possibly go, where could he possibly hide? Intellectually, he would have concluded that the answer would be nowhere, but his hindbrain hadn't quite caught up and all it was doing right now was screaming at him to run, _run!_

_Because I not only missed Master's intentions - was so preoccupied that I never even suspected them - but aided the enemy in my blindness..._

_:Chosen, please, just talk to me, don't shut me out...:_

Sianni. What did Master know of Companions and Companion bonds? Sianni had no part in this fiasco...she should not be involved. A desperate lurch to the side kept him from being run over by a cart-hauling draft horse eager to be home after the long day, its driver yelling imprecations after him when his abrupt emergence from the side had startled the equine into half-rearing, rattling the cart's contents. _:No more talking. It's too late for words. I've failed him.:_

_:What? Who - Kyn, if you're in danger, please let me know what it is so that we can help!:_

He silently cursed himself as he paused momentarily to catch his breath when the walls lining the palace grounds moved into sight. He should not have given in and replied; he could feel the prickly touch of anxiety sliding down the link from her, and the strengthening of her proximity. She was running after him, following...that might even be _her_ hoofbeats rising in tempo behind him...

A desperate swallow of air, and then he was sprinting again, pushing the ache of abused muscles and joints to the edges of his perception as he headed for the west gate. There was a vague thought of arming himself with what he could find in the collegium, grabbing more appropriate clothes and other necessities...perhaps the lessons that the Heralds had taught about survival outside the city confines might actually come in handy...

"M'lord, are you sure you would not rather wait - "

Kyn wasn't sure what it was exactly that warned him - certainly not the snatch of conversation, heard too late to be of any real use - but his body automatically shifted its balance in preparation to slowing, subtly swiveling in preparation for a turn - and that, perhaps, managed to just save him from running the duke down entirely. As it was, he still ran _ into_ the man - but the man managed to remain standing while he rebounded with an undignified _oof_ and ended half-sprawled on the ground, blinking upwards with a head gone lightheaded and dizzy after his over-exertion.

"M'lord! Boy, watch where you're going! The streets aren't some pasture for you to go sprinting through like - Bright Lady, it's him. The one that took down the two cutpurses like they were - "

"The boy who saved my daughter?"

Kyn blinked owlishly up at the silhouettes looming over him, ones that eventually resolved themselves with a shift in the sun's slanting rays and another hasty blink into one of the guardsmen who had been with the squad called to the scene of the attack earlier...and Se'Fannouel. The former looked highly skeptical, had a hand outstretched as if about to haul Kyn up onto his feet and clap him in irons for murder despite the circumstances, but the duke had neatly overrode the man's suspicions and was now bent over - to all outward appearances - with concern.

"Ah, I do believe I recall meeting you before. Kyn was your name, correct?" the duke asked with an almost insulting gentleness, considering their last meeting. The duke extended a hand toward Kyn, his mouth stretching in a benign smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a cheeriness that didn't reach the orbs themselves. "Guard Brenson here was dispatched to inform me of the recent happenings, and I cannot convey the depth of my distress when I learned of the attack upon my daughter. Please, allow me to express my utmost gratitude for your efforts."

Kyn gaped foolishly at the duke, wondering briefly how he had managed to run into _him_ of all people at such a time, when an uneasy shift on the guardsman's part snapped him out of his daze. Brenson must have been sent right after the guards had arrived and secured the scene to have already rooted the duke out of the inn, albeit not more than a dozen feet from the building itself. "It was a coincidence," Kyn finally said curtly, ignoring the proffered hand and pushing himself up off the ground, and finding to his embarrassment that an almost visible tremor was threading its way through his limbs, a weakness that he cursed all the more while standing in the presence of Master's enemy. The run had managed to keep the winter air's bite at bay, but now the nip of late afternoon shade combined with a rising coldness completely from within rapidly sapped what heat he retained.

"There is no need to be modest," Se'Fannouel chided, dropping a hand heavily on Kyn's shoulder in a fatherly gesture that he barely managed to suppress a cringe from. "You should take what rewards you deserve for such an astonishing act of bravery." Those dark, glittering eyes narrowed, and the smile sharpened ever so slightly before the duke's gaze slid past to the throughway beyond. "And it seems the rest of the train has finally caught up..."

Kyn stared at the man, dread forming a heavy knot in his chest. _What is the duke up to?_

He didn't have to turn to know that the warning nicker and purposeful clatter of hooves that could have danced as silently on bricks as the thickest hummock belonged to Sianni. He presumed that the second set belonged to Kantor, and the chill of a shadow falling over him from behind could only belong to the un-Herald, meeting the duke's eyes over Kyn's head.

"Alberich. Is Kyn your charge? From all accounts, he displays an astonishing prowess on the field - he would certainly be a worthy pupil." Se'Fannouel did not remove his hand, and, if anything else, seemed to tighten his grip ever so slightly.

"My charge, Kyn is not," Alberich's voice rumbled from closer than Kyn had expected, the un-Herald near enough to invade personal space, as if in unspoken challenge to the duke. And now, not only had the un-Herald's unorthodox speech patterns been reinforced, but there was a suspicious thickening of the syllables, as if the remnants of an accent was still clinging stubbornly to the words, refusing to be shaken off completely. Unnatural, unwarranted...the weaponsmaster was putting on his own show for the duke. 

But what role was Kyn supposed to take now?

"Oh really? My apologies for such a hasty assumption, then," the duke inserted smoothly, just as the silence was beginning to become uncomfortable and it became clear that Alberich would not be volunteering any more information. "May I inquire as to who his guardians are, then? I would dearly like to ask their permission to invite him to my home, so that I may properly reward him for the saving of my daughter's life."

_No no no..._ If not for the hand, Kyn might have bolted, right then and there. He remembered the shadowed halls, hung with banners...remembered the circles and Mennifei laid out in blood...remembered the knife sliding cold between his ribs, all within the forbidding stone walls of a manor he had never visited...up till now.

"Your home?"

"Yes." The duke looked down on Kyn, smiling. "I'm thinking of taking Mennifei home with me for a few weeks to recuperate from the experience when I leave the capitol in ten days or so. At the same time, I would like to invite Kyn here for a visit. It would only be for a few days; I would not want to hamper his studies here."

Kyn jerked back roughly, and didn't know which was the more startling - escaping the duke's grip without effort, or stumbling into Alberich's unyielding bulk behind him. Still, despite the trip-hammer race of his heartbeat in his ears, he wasn't about to miss his chance to back out of the offer. "No, I will n - "

"Glad to visit you, sure I am he would be."

Kyn nearly strained his neck, whipping his head about to stare disbelievingly at the un-Herald's grim visage, his mouth still half-open on the refusal he had been about to give. _ :Sianni!:_ he protested.

_:I'm sorry, Kyn. I've been arguing with him ever since you ran off, but I'm making very little headway, and things are too delicately balanced here for me to just interrupt again. Just remember that I'll never leave your side, no matter what happens; I'll always be there for you - :_

_:What games is he playing?!:_

_:No games, Chosen, I promise you that. Even if he was not the sort of man to refrain from toying with others, I would never allow it. Patience...the decision is not final. You can still change your - :_

Se'Fannouel clapped his hands together sharply in approval, making Kyn jump at the abrupt sound. "Excellent! In ten days' time, I promise you an experience that you will never forget, Kyn. Now, if you would please excuse my boorish haste, I really must see how my daughter is doing..." A quick nod to either of them, not even allowing enough time for an acknowledgement, and the duke had swept past, the bemused guardsman in tow like a common servant.

Kyn stood, stiff and trembling, waiting with a control that cost him dearly for the sound of their brisk footsteps to fade into the ambient noise of the avenue. Only then did he allow himself to turn on Alberich with a fist and a wordless howl.

His fist was caught, and when instinct would have planted an elbow into the weaponsmaster's midriff and followed with the heel of the other hand smashing into the nose, aimless fury and an arm looped around his middle conspired to disarm him completely. Lifted half off his feet - rather similarly to how he had treated Mennifei but only a few marks ago - he twisted violently in Alberich's grip, and nearly managed to smash an elbow into the man's jaw, though more by accident than design.

"Desist!" the un-Herald hissed sharply into Kyn's ear, giving him a rough shake as if he were little more than an errant puppy caught in a wolf's jaws. More rattled than he would ever admit, Kyn immediately froze, every muscle strung tight and trembling, breaths catching on sharp gasps that verged dangerously on dry sobs.

"I won't do it," he whispered hoarsely. "You can't make me go. I won't go, there's nothing you can do to make me go..."

"What have you seen?" The weaponsmaster's voice was almost gentle in its hushed volume, coaxing and at startling odds to the harsh tones he had used before. "What do you fear so much?"

"I...circles. Circles within circles within circles...all around me..." Kyn stirred in the un-Herald's grip, feeling and remembering the tickling-tingling sensation inside his head of a Truth Spell enacted, and turned betrayed eyes toward the man. As illogical as the feeling was...he had not thought Alberich would use the Truth Spell on him again._ And why would you think that? When have you ever given them cause to trust you on even the smallest issue? _"The...the duke..." He swallowed thickly, fighting it with every single shred of will he had even as he knew the futility of the gesture. "He'll...he'll kill - "

_:Enough.:_

Alberich released Kyn with a surprised grunt, lurching forward and nearly sending them both staggering to their knees. Availing himself of the opportunity, Kyn quickly scrambled out of the weaponsmaster's reach, only realizing after he had turned that the reason for the interruption was Sianni. Even as he watched, the Companion advanced another step and nudged the weaponsmaster none-too-gently in the back with her nose once again.

_:There is no reason for you to place _my Chosen _under Truth Spell. There is no reason for you to badger _my Chosen _as you have when a simple question would have sufficed. There is absolutely _no_ reason for the decision you had made for _my Chosen_ without his consent!:_

With each emphasis on 'my Chosen', Sianni drove home the point that her Choice was tantamount to a god's token of faith...and Kyn couldn't help feeling something inside wince and shrink away each time, wondering when and how he would betray that faith.

"Strong arm tactics I may have resorted to, but necessary they are!" Alberich retorted, taking a judicious step back to glare at Sianni. 

"Why?" Kyn interjected, straightening and calming himself with an effort; a superficial success at best, but the most he could manage at the moment. "Why is this so necessary? Why don't _you_ go? I heard the way you changed while talking to the duke. You were pretending to be someone else - or trying to deflect suspicions away from what you might seem to be. You're already deeper in this than I'll ever be. Am I right?"

Alberich didn't reply immediately, but the silence seemed less belligerent and more wary. The weaponsmaster tilted his head and eyed Kyn in appraisal, long and hard, before he responded obliquely, "This is the easiest and fastest way. You _do_ want to finish this, don't you?"

Kyn swallowed at the incontrovertible proof of the un-Herald's chameleon switch in persona, the effortless shift into a far more fluid and commonplace speech. "I need to know why. What it is you're looking for. Why I am so important to you..." _Why you won't accept me as I am and yet won't let me go._ He shivered once, violently, wrapping his arms around himself in an absent attempt to stave off the chill.

The un-Herald smirked faintly, a corner of his mouth pulling upwards. "I thought you didn't want to know. I remember you specifically requesting that all details be kept - "

"I was wrong," Kyn interrupted bitterly, turning his head sharply away, fingers tightening in the fabric of his sleeves. "It was ignorance that led to my mistake today. I'm not going to let it happen again." _Even if it's too late. Even if I soon won't be allowed to make any other mistakes ever again._

_:The child is going to catch his death of cold, on top of everything else. This can wait.:_

"I disagree," Alberich said calmly. There was no discernible softening, but there was a certain...leavening of his stance toward Kyn, as if having some personal assessment confirmed allowed him to deal with Kyn more magnanimously. "This is exactly the time in which to discuss this. He is finally - "

Sianni swung her head around to stare directly at the man, and must have added some choice comment privately, for Alberich arched one brow sharply and even Kantor broke his customary neutrality with an uncertain whuffle, dancing to the side and extending his nose out toward Sianni in a gesture that she evaded with an arrogant flick of her tail. _:No. We are finished. Come, Chosen.:_

He stared dumbly at her for a moment. _:That's it?:_

_:That's all that I will allow for now. Alberich has his invitation to the duke's manse if you agree to it, and if you don't, then the entire conversation is moot anyway. My main concern is getting you back inside right now. You're whiter than that shirt you're wearing.:_

He glanced down at himself, noting numbly, _:It's cream-colored.:_

_:Don't distract me with details. Come on.:_ She presented her side to him and stared expectantly.

"But..." He laid his hands against her back, glanced over it toward the un-Herald and Kantor on the other side, both gazing steadily at him, both equally expressionless in their own ways. "No, I can walk," he finally said, shifting instead to lean against her side, guiltily hunching his shoulders to tuck himself closer against her warmth.

Sianni chuffed in exasperation. _:Why? My way will be faster, not to mention more comfortable.:_

"I can walk," he insisted stubbornly, fixing his eyes on the worn stones of the roadway before him, polished by countless treads of feet, hooves, and wheels. "If I can walk, I will walk." _This is my last chance. I must not appear weak. Master would not send common ruffians for me - if he sent anyone else at all. If he came himself..._ If Master came himself, Kyn would not be able to inflict so much as a harsh word on the man, much less lift a finger against him. Which meant that all he had left in his own defense was his pride.

Sianni let the silence stretch a little longer, allowing her displeasure to be felt, before finally giving in. _:Very well.:_ Despite the snappish undertone, she solicitously kept her pace to his, shielding him as best she could against the growing breeze that evening brought with it, huddling as protectively around him as if he were her colt. Kyn, for his part, made sure he placed one foot in front of the other, and though he tried to pay attention to the few people that still bustled through the darkening streets, found himself pondering the oddest details instead -

Such as the sweet buns that Brin seemed so fond of, the sharing of them just an excuse to buy more than he ought to.

Such as the thick scent of herbs that clung to Nadia - not the pervasive, choking smell of the drugs he depended on, but a cleaner, lighter odor that cleared the head.

Such as the bright splash of early morning through the windows of his room, creeping warm and stealthy across the coverlet over his feet.

Such as the velvety stroke of Sianni's muzzle when she lipped fondly at the ends of his hair, her breaths a gentle rocking at his back.

He barely noticed the passing of the gate in the little sparks of remembered delights that forced themselves upon him, things that he might have barely noticed at the time but which all insisted on clamoring for his attention now. Something was different now, something within him and without had changed...

Kyn stumbled to a halt, staring at the scattered clusters of buildings, the hibernating fields and evergreens bordering them, the handful of Companions, trainees, and Heralds scattered across the grounds. The entire time that he had been ensconced with the Heralds...had it really been that bad? Had it really been so intolerable?

When he had first come to the realization that he may have worked counter to Master, his first instinct had been to hide. Like a guilty child who had just broken a prized vase in his thoughtless play, he had sought to escape the inevitable punishment, as if by remaining out of sight, Master might also forget that he existed to be reprimanded. Run and hide, out of sight, out of mind. But, inevitably, reason had managed to catch up - in no small part because the Heralds and Companions had simply interrupted his momentum. Stopped, and forced to think, he had wondered if it would be better just to return, and face the consequences directly. Would Master have enough mercy to let him stay if he saw that Kyn was appropriately repentant? Would he understand that Kyn would never make such a mistake again?

But then...what did he really have that he could go back to? Did he truly believe that it would all be the same as before? That Master would ever trust him so completely again?

That he would ever trust Master to forgive what he had done?

_:Kyn?:_ Sianni nudged him gently with her nose, stopping as soon as he did with a sixth sense that allowed not a single step to fall out of synch. _:What is it, Chosen?:_

He took a deep breath, and prepared himself to utter the most damning words of all. 

He was not supposed to desire anything beyond what Master needed him to be. He was not supposed to endanger either Master or assignment, by action or by existence. He was not supposed to force Master to hunt him down like a mad animal that needed a mercy stroke. He should have completed the knife stroke the night he had been Chosen, by whatever means, as soon as it became clear he had been compromised.

And yet...and yet... 

"Sianni...I don't want to die."

* * *

The day was well on its way toward noon before Kyn heard the expected knock on the door, a sharp double-tap that was as unembellished and straightforward as the man who produced it. Barely glancing up from the the books that he had pilfered from the library, he called out, "Come in."

Alberich opened the door and slipped in, as quiet and unobtrusive as the shadows his uniform mimicked. There was a pause as Kyn imagined the un-Herald gazing over the scene before the man stepped up to the table's edge. In the corner of his vision, Kyn saw one hand - large, rough with calluses, sun-browned and blade-scarred - reach out to nudge a tome's cover over to read the title. "Missed, you have been in classes."

Of all openings, Kyn least expected that one. Placing a marker where he left off on the page, he turned to give the man a highly skeptical look. Alberich didn't meet his gaze immediately, instead, reaching for another, title-less book to peruse its contents. "Truth it is. One of the obvious, Brin is, but some instructors have also expressed concerns. A bright student, they say you are."

Kyn frowned, uncertain as to what response was expected, and so sidestepped the topic altogether. "Must you speak that way?"

Alberich shrugged, shifting his speech effortlessly as he dropped the book back on its stack. "Force of habit, in these surroundings. Does it bother you?"

He hesitated on a reflexive, "No," thought about just what he had to gain from hiding anything from the weaponsmaster right now, and admitted, "I want to know I'm dealing with _you_. Not some facet that was created for a specific purpose. A purpose meant to conceal."

Alberich gave him an acceding nod, turning to lean one hip against the table, crossing his arms. "If it will make you more comfortable, then. Are you ready to discuss things now?"

Kyn felt his lips twist into an acerbic smile. "No. But there's little enough time left to pander to such sensibilities."

A rare hesitation flitted through the un-Herald's expression, but in the end, all he did was give another nod. "If you wish. The first question would be what you fear in retribution from your master, and why you do so."

Kyn shook his head sharply. "No. The first question is what you know of the duke."

"Think you that you're in a position to be bargaining?"

He remained stubbornly silent.

The weaponsmaster smiled thinly before gesturing toward the books laid out across the table in various states of repose. "You might already have all the answers."

"I _know_ I don't have all the answers," Kyn responded shortly, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms in a deliberate gesture of belligerence. "I've only just begun to get hints of what happened in the family itself. But most of what is in the library concentrates only on the formation of the land boundaries between the various holdings. I want to know how Se'Fannouel became the lord of Lynxfinn Holdings, when all I can find before his generation are references to Mrr'Thaine."

"Details on the families themselves would most likely be held in their personal libraries, rather than at the capitol," Alberich conceded, "though if you looked further, you'll eventually find the official records where the name 'Se'Fannouel' was entered as the new duke of the eastern trade province.

"It started three generations back, with Danfaellar Thynn Mrr'Thaine. He married young, had children young, and became a widower young. Two sons were birthed, barely a year apart: Vinsenail, the firstborn, and Jendail. Infection took the wife unexpectedly after the birth of the second son, and rather than resort to a wet nurse and governesses, Danfaellar decided that his sons would be raised with a proper mother. One week after his first wife was laid to rest, he proposed suit to a young baroness, a widow herself, with a one-year-old son." Kyn closed his eyes, bit back a queasy feeling in his middle that might have been anxiety, vision, or breakfast, and refused to let himself contemplate anything but the most superficial facts. 

This was it. He was finally getting the story that he had longed for and dreaded to hear.

There was the soft, muffled scuff of book covers sliding across each other, pages turning as the weaponsmaster idly leafed through one tome or another while he spoke. "Though it seemed he had chosen in unseemly haste, the baroness' credentials were nothing if not impeccable. She was past her mourning period, and had comported herself appropriately throughout. Her late husband's resources were quite admirable for a man of his position, the lands near to the duke's and easily tied in to existing borders with a few more judicious purchases. The woman herself, by all accounts, was a lady of great poise, beauty, and dignity. Danfaellar gained himself a wife, a mother for his children, expanded holdings...and she, an elevation in rank, and a lord husband and protector for herself and her son." There was a pause, long enough that Kyn opened his eyes to find the un-Herald staring unblinkingly at him. 

"Her son," Kyn murmured. "Aisner Se'Fannouel."

Alberich nodded. "Back then, it was Aisner _syn_ Mrr'Thaine, after the old rules that governed the Mrr'Thaine family's nomenclature. The children grew up as brothers, shared everything as if they were blood..."

"Everything but for the inheritance?" Kyn prodded, trying to recall what he could of the rules of ascension in the texts that he had been forced to study long ago, texts that he wouldn't have paid a second glance to, if it hadn't meant Master's fickle ire. What need had he to learn of the rules that nobles played by?

The un-Herald tilted his head minutely. "By all accounts, they seemed quite content. Danfaellar met with an untimely death a few years before Vinsenail would have reached his majority. An accident on a hunt, supposedly, a sport of which he had been quite fond of. The circumstances had appeared innocuous, the former baroness did not vanish with the treasury, and Vinsenail survived without incident to become duke in two years. All in all, it had seemed that the early deaths plaguing the family had finally lifted itself when nothing untoward occurred in the following years."

"Seemed," Kyn prompted, unconsciously tensing, fingers itching - perhaps for the comfort of a knife.

"Seemed," Alberich agreed easily, laying down the book he had been distracting himself with. "Aisner married. Vinsenail married. Within a year, the latter proclaimed that his new bride was with child. There were no complications during pregnancy, the child arrived nearly to the day that it was expected, and the Mrr'Thaine line was guaranteed a continuance in the next generation through the healthy baby boy that was delivered. He was five years old when the Mrr'Thaines were wiped out."

Kyn's breath froze in his lungs, his very heart seeming to pause as he stared at the weaponsmaster, the nonchalant words so at odds with the import of their meaning. "Wiped out?" he husked. "Every one of them?"

The un-Herald nodded, hitching his thumbs through his belt, shifting his weight into a more comfortable position. "Vinsenail. His pretty young wife. Their son. The brother, Jendail. A fire had swept through the entire wing...a freak accident, from all reports."

"But...the Lynxfinn manor is made of stone," Kyn whispered, shivering, his eyes sliding away from the weaponsmaster's blindly. "A veritable firestorm would have had to blow through for an entire wing to be taken down without warning."

A soft shuff of leather and a single, soft clink of metal and Alberich crouched before him. "Do you see something, Kyn?"

Kyn shuddered, gaze snapping back to the man with the softly uttered words. "No. I don't see the past, just the future. Sometimes. The baroness become duchess? How much of an accident was it?"

Seemingly taking his words at face value, Alberich straightened before replying, "Accounts surrounding the evening are confused. The source was never discovered; everything from an overturned lamp near oil barrels for refilling them to a stray drake have been suggested, the latter in particular taking hold when several servants claimed they heard a beast's roar echo over the grounds just before the fire swept through. No beast was ever sighted, however. And as for whether Aisner's mother is responsible for all of it...the point is debatable, for she too perished in the flames. Either she was another innocent, or she did not escape her own mad scheme."

A soft breath, released ever so lightly, as if afraid of upsetting the ghosts of past tragedies from their rest. "And only a Se'Fannouel was left."

"Only Se'Fannouels," Alberich corrected grimly. "A daughter, which had been born a few years after the latest Lynxfinn scion - Mennifei - and her mother also survived."

So convenient. "You suspect it was him, then?" Kyn asked after a few heartbeats of silence, when the oppressive stillness became too much to bear. "You think he was responsible for it all?"

"He might be. Or he might not. Our investigation, however, does not touch directly upon it. All of these events occurred over a decade ago."

Kyn shifted uneasily in his seat. "Then why are you investigating him now?"

"Because of the black arts that he is rumored to be practicing. His sudden interest in expansion. But most of all, who else might be standing behind him, goading him on. The duke might be the misdirection, the magician's trick, distracting the eye while the hand strikes somewhere more vital."

Kyn slowly drew his legs up, hooking the heels of his feet over the seat's edge and wrapping his arms around his bent knees, peeking over the tops of them broodingly. "I don't know anything about that," he finally offered, slowly and carefully, weighing each word that he was willing to give the un-Herald for all its worth. "I only know of the feud between him and Master."

Alberich opened his hands, palm up. "I have offered freely what you wanted to know."

_Now it is your turn,_ was the unsubtle implication. "Careful, that might cut both ways. I know you're still holding things back. Quite a bit of it."

One brow rose archly. "Perhaps you would like to know my mother's name and her favorite fruit as well. Some details are unnecessary."

"Unnecessary to you, perhaps. Should I apply the same definition to what I divulge?"

"You have already withheld much. What you say now is to balance the scales."

"Scales that you've rigged," Kyn accused, perhaps unjustly. But he had learned long ago to press any advantage he might have with the weaponsmaster, whether real or imagined, because he wouldn't have it for very long.

"That may be. But you were not trully expecting fairness, were you?"

Kyn stiffened, opened his mouth, and found himself caught on the choice of either calling Alberich on the point and appearing naive, or letting it pass. Seeing the knowing look on the un-Herald's face only clinched it as Kyn grumbled ineffectively for a breath or two before finally giving in. "I don't even know that much about the feud itself. All I have been able to tell so far is that Master has tried time and again to kill the duke, and the duke has thus far evaded all attempts without mishap."

"And were you to be one of those attempts?"

Kyn hesitated, looking away. "I don't know. Maybe. I was never given specific instructions on the matter."

"Yet you acted anyway, that night."

Yes, he had. How foolish it seemed now, thinking back on it! But he had been overtaken by panic by the vision, uncertain and off-balance from his seeming abandonment in alien territory. Even now, he could recall the exact path of his thoughts at the time, that led to the confrontation of the duke in his own room, and couldn't think of anything he might have done differently, knowing only what he had then. "I did. A mistake. But at the time, it had seemed like a good idea."

"And why was that?"

"Why was it a mistake? Or why did it seem like a good idea? If the latter, because I believed he was eventually going to kill me." _I still do._ "If the former, because I went in unprepared. My ignorance cost me dearly."

Alberich frowned, taking a step closer and - perhaps unintentionally - looming over him as he said darkly, "You were found with one wrist slit, and a blood mark on your forehead. Sianni had been blocked completely, and not by you. What did Se'Fannouel do to you? What have you seen?"

Kyn tilted his head back, eyeing the man suspiciously. "What have _you_ seen? What does your Sight warn you of"

"Vague things," the weaponsmaster noted with a short, warning shake of his head. "All of them surrounding you. You overwhelm anything else I might see beyond immediate and concrete threats."

An unexpected confession, to be sure. Pursing his lips, Kyn mulled over the revelation, how it fit in with the un-Herald's behavior before and what it might mean for their future interactions, before shrugging as casually as he could. "He performed some sort of binding. I have seen Master execute similar works."

"You are admitting that your master is also a practitioner of the black arts, then?"

"You already knew that he's drawn blood from me before. I am sure Nadia has only confirmed your suspicions along the way."

Alberich seemed to search his face for something at the bold words, but when Kyn did not flinch away from his probing gaze, the un-Herald nodded. "Tell me of what you have seen."

Kyn took a deep breath, sorted through his options, and then proceeded to pick his way through the scenes as delicately as if he were walking through a field seeded liberally with caltrops. He was far too conscious of Alberich's keen attention to anything not only pertaining to the duke, but to Master as well, as evidenced by the man's pointed query. 

He carefully weeded out all references to Master, or any tell-tales that would indicate anything about him, such as his disabilities. He filtered out names, and smudged the ties between him and Se'Fannouel nearly into indecipherability. Even as he dropped one clue after another from the telling, knowing that at each turn he was probably seriously hampering the weaponsmaster's investigation, he couldn't quite bring himself to admit it all. He might be unwittingly breaking his ties from Master one after the other, but nothing could force him into betraying him outright.

Alberich indulged in a half dozen strides that took him to one end of the room and partway back after the narration, pausing half across the floor to frown questioningly at Kyn. "You believe, then, that the first death you saw involving the girl was an alternate scene resulting from an attempt to prevent the second?"

He nodded slowly, swallowing at the reminder of his misstep. "If she is to be a sacrifice...then yes. Unless Se'Fannouel substitutes his wife, of whom I have yet to see, there won't be anyone else remotely suitable - though I suppose it is all relative, considering the evidence of the care he pays Mennifei."

A half turn, and another three steps back to the wall. "No, there would be no others. His wife died two years ago. A suicide." Kyn looked up sharply at the weaponsmaster, but finding no suitable response, remained silent as the man mulled over the new information. "And what of you, now?"

"What?" Kyn blinked, as the un-Herald suddenly and abruptly focused on him.

"What of you? Sianni indicated that you believe you are in danger now. From thwarting your master's plans?"

Kyn shifted his weight in his chair, dropping his arms and legs to plant both feet flat on the ground, hands gripping the seat's sides. "Maybe. I don't know. I've been operating outside of the guidelines for too long to tell, now."

Alberich nodded, his mind made up on one matter or another, and strode for the door. "A guard you will have then," he said, already beginning to lapse back into his habitual speech amongst the Heralds, "just in case. Consider, would you, accepting the duke's invitation?"

Kyn was still pondering possible responses to being blatantly under guard once again - even if it was for his protection this time instead of others' - when he blinked dumbly at the weaponsmaster for a moment. "I beg your pardon?"

"Consider," the un-Herald repeated himself with ill patience, "would you, accepting the duke's invitation?"

"I thought you had already made the decision for me?" Kyn drew out, waiting to see if the weaponsmaster really was offering what he thought the man was offering - an apology.

Alberich shrugged one shoulder uncomfortably, and actually looked away. "Mistake, I might have made. Consulted you beforehand, I should have. But," he added sternly, "be sure that the shortest route only had I in mind. No doubt have I that all can be resolved in the days that you stay there."

_How typical; can't even offer a straight apology without providing enough reasoning to make it seem like he had made the best decision possible._ Even more infuriating, however, was how usually he was right. Sighing in resignation, Kyn conceded, "Yes, I want this over with as soon as possible. I'll - " His voice unexpectedly caught on the agreement, an apprehension tightening on his throat until he had to clear it before he finished with a modicum of normality, "I'll go visit the duke at his request."

Apparently hearing all that he needed to hear, Alberich gave a bare nod before reaching for the door's handle.

"Why didn't you Truth Spell me just now? Sianni's not here to stop you."

"If necessary I had thought it, nothing would stop me from the execution of my duties." Alberich tilted his head, though he did not look back. "But agreeable, I would much rather have you be, than forced. Believe I do also, that you have lost your taste for being forced. That look you gave me, during my last attempt at the spell, was evidence enough."

Kyn bit his lip, flinching at the reminder, but unable to gainsay it. Something else prodded at him as the un-Herald was about to leave, a whimsical thought that he gave voice to before it fully formed in his mind. "How did you know they missed me? The instructors."

The un-Herald paused in the doorway, half-turning to cast Kyn a look that could only be termed as...disgruntled. "Misfortune I had of traveling down the same corridors as they. Less than amusing rumor there is that you are under my care. Accosted me for your whereabouts they did. Too good of an example you set for the others to stop now, they say."

Kyn's mouth twitched, a lapse that he quickly corrected as the weaponsmaster's frown deepened. "It is your own fault for associating with me so much."

Alberich grunted noncommittally. "See how cheeky you will be after your next weapons practice," he threatened unconvincingly, shutting the door behind him with more force than was his wont.

* * *

How very odd. I could have sworn the reviews had been at 81...but now they're at 80. I hope I didn't accidentally do something to lose one...if so, I apologize to whoever got dropped. If you don't find yourself being replied to here, please let me know. Thank you. =)

Megan - patpats Naw, don't feel bad about it. I didn't make it easy on you at all, quite intentionally. I didn't want you figuring out *everything* all at once; where would be the suspense that keeps you coming back for more? =D But I'm very glad to hear that I haven't lost you completely. Let me know if you feel lost in the future? At least then I can sound out whether I'm successful in keeping you in the dark in all the right places - if you're lost and I didn't mean to put you there, it means I should rewrite some stuff. =P

SCWLC - Welcome aboard! Thank you for such a glowing review. Hope I don't disappoint.

ola - laughs The lack of words is all the more flattering. ^_~

Firefox - I trust the speed at which this chapter was issued is satisfactory? =)

nightangel - Well, not an accent, per se. (Considering the thickness of the accents other characters sported in Thief, Alberich was a definite lightweight.) It's more a matter of a was of talking. Check out my notes under the "Intermission" section if you haven't already; it pretty much outlines everything I had been thinking on the matter at the time. I'm afraid I don't have much else to add to it right now, but I'm definitely keeping in mind a deeper peek into the man's speech (especially now that I've discovered the SF library).

M'cha Araem - Eh, actually...it's pretty close to the truth. =P To make a *very* long story shorter...I moved back to school in the beginning of July. As soon as I got resettled into my apartment/house (bottom half of a duplex) after being away for over half a year, I gave notice to my landlady that I was planning to move out along with all 3 of my other roomies on September 1. The landlady then replied back asking if I minded 'tidying' up the place as she was going to start showing it to potential renters immediately. (Btw, 'tidy' had a very strict definition here.) During the summer, I agreed to help out with a program that housed high school students in the dorms to give them a taste of college life. I was one of the RAs that would be on duties at night, and so I was given a room. Thus, I adhered to 'tidying up' by moving all my stuff into the dorms. (Move #2 - btw, not only was that particular dorm on the highest point of the campus - and we have very big hills here - but the room was on the fourth floor...and no elevators *ugh*). The summer program lasted one and a half months, and luckily, the landlady managed to find renters right before it ended...because at the program's end, I had to move everything back into my place. (Move #3) This was mid-August then.

The reason why I was moving out on Sept 1 is cuz one roomy's getting a house in SF, and I was gonna stick with her. Except that she hadn't found an appropriate house to buy by then yet. So we had two weeks (in which we were still working and, in my case, finishing a summer class) in which to find a place to stay pseudo-temporarily, move _everything_ out of the old place, and find storage. Well...we managed it. Barely. Except the new place wouldn't be ready until 3 days after we had to move out of the old place. So then we bunked at my roomy's mom's friend's place. That would be...let's see, move #3, #4, and #5 when we finally got to the new place. I'm sure there's a couple of one-halves in there too, if you counted all the friends' places we dumped stuff at when the storage place closed its gates before we finished moving everything out. (Doesn't help that two previous roomies left a *lot* of crap behind that we had to sort and clean out.) takes a deep breath But, anyway, it was an interesting time, and it makes for a rather amusing, if long-winded tale. Especially the part where we shuffled around the old place/friend's place/new place. And we're planning to move yet again at the year's end to the house that's just been settled on. Joyous, ain't it? =P

Hrm, hope I didn't just bore you to death there...I'm half asleep myself...zzzZZZzzz...


	14. The Words Between: part 11b

It was short enough, and continued fluidly enough, that I decided to just slap this on as a part b, just as I did for the 9th chapter.

Thank you very much for pointing out the messed up html'ing, SCWLC! I was trying out the new nifty back-up function, and decided to update/tweak some stuff along the way, and abruptly discovered that sure, the body text was backed up...but not an html page's headers and all that. Thankfully though, it was a simple enough fix. Unfortunately, in my mix of copying back and forth, backing up various files on laptop and desktop, I think I accidentally over-wrote some parts with older copies (part 10, mostly). I tried re-creating any changes I made in the past, but expect it to be not-perfect.

The Words Between - part 11b

Kyn stared out of the near window after Alberich left, long enough that when he finally bestirred himself, the sun's light had slanted noticeably. There had been no real ponderings during the time; he had simply let his mind drift after the influx of information, registered some vague murmurings from his Gift, but allowed nothing to truly surface. He didn't want to realize things yet. He had most of the pieces necessary to untangle the connections between the duke, Master, and himself, but once known, there was no way to un-know it again, and he wasn't quite ready to make that commitment yet.

Standing, he was careful to stretch out any lingering stiffness. Picking up a short coat draped carelessly over the bed's footboard, he felt tentatively along his link to Sianni as he shrugged it into place on his way out, and reoriented himself accordingly when he left the building. Though cloudless, the day was wan and chill, and he stepped up his pace to help generate more warmth as he headed out over the fields, little puffs of condensation from his breaths trailing close.

_Jenner. Vinsen. Se'Fannouel._

_Jendail. Vinsenail. Aisner._

He shook his head sharply, forcibly turning his thoughts from such musings. Lengthening his stride even more, he counted his steps to occupy his mind as one of the stables came into view. When he reached the doors, there was a sleepy, half-formed request, and he snorted before obediently detouring toward one of the bins holding cut vegetables and picking out two sticks of carrots. A series of white heads bearing unnaturally blue eyes poked out of various stalls and corners upon his entrance, but only one remained focused on him after an initial, curious look. Giving herself a shake, stray wisps of straw flying from her coat and mane, Sianni waited for him to come to her before reaching for the carrots, taking them carefully from his hands. _:Thank you.:_

Kyn looked around, noted the various Companions in repose, reached inside himself for the motionless waters in the silent garden, and replied, _:You're welcome.:_

Sianni paused mid-crunch, craning her head comically to peer at him. _ :You've improved.:_

He tilted his head in mock affront. _:My control, or my manners?:_

She tossed her head abruptly with a softly whickered laugh, arching her neck afterwards in delight. _:Both, and much more, apparently! When did you manage to pick up a sense of humor?:_

He shrugged. _:Everything is absorbed eventually with practice or exposure, I suppose.:_

Sianni nodded, graduating almost automatically to nibbling at a stray wisp of hair by his ear when she had swallowed the last of the carrot. _:Your control over your shields and 'speech has definitely improved, though I can tell you still have to concentrate on it. But it shouldn't be too hard for you to pick up everything else now that you've overcome the first hurdle.:_

_:Will I have the time to do so? And stop doing that.:_

_:Sorry, your hair is just so...enticing.:_ There was no real repentance in the apology, and Sianni's tone was far too coquettish to leave any doubt as to her true feelings on the matter. She danced back when he raised a hand to swat her away, continuing in the same vein, _:Maybe it's whatever you used to dye it with? Or the way some of the ends just sort of...wisp out like feathers.:_

_:It is not as if Master uses carrots to dye it. Restrain yourself.:_

Under his stern look, Sianni radiated an appropriate amount of meekness until he relented enough to scratch her under her jaw. All but vibrating in pleasure, she allowed her eyelids to droop nearly closed, tail giving the occasional lazy twitch at some imaginary fly. _:What's wrong, Kyn?:_

_:I don't know.:_ He struggled for a moment for the words, either found them inadequate or too revealing to utter carelessly, and wondered briefly if confessions became easier with practice.

_:Not if they come from the heart,:_ Sianni interrupted his thoughts, giving him a nudge to remind his fingers to keep scritching.

He conceded the point with a nod, mouth stretching ever so slightly before he sobered once again. _:I think...I think I am concerned by how...'un-momentous' the occasion feels.:_

Muffled clops warned of a nearing Companion, a courtesy provided when she passed them on her way out of the stable. Sianni bobbed her head in greeting - informing Kyn in aside that it was Faylin that had just walked by - before returning her attention fully to him. _:You think striking out on your own from your master should be...more traumatic?:_

He frowned, shrugging, eyes sliding guiltily down and to the side. _:No. Yes. It had always been...unthinkable. But then, when it became more and more likely, albeit not completely at my own instigation...then, it was terrifying. But after a time...it just all kind of...went away.: _He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. _:Maybe I've just become...numb.:_

_:That may be. You've certainly had quite a bit piled on you over the time you've been with us,:_ Sianni noted gently.

He looked down at his hands, examined the tendons and vessels mapped out upon their backs as he clenched them into fists. _:But I should have handled it...more gracefully. Perhaps if I had been calm and had had all my wits about me...maybe I could have changed something.:_

_:Nobody should handle what you've been through gracefully. I'm very proud of how well you've done thus far.:_

He jerked his head up, sliding back a half step to focus on her at the unexpected praise. _:Proud,:_ he echoed skeptically. It was hard, trying to apply the concept to himself. Certain instructors had voiced the same opinion on certain occasions, but...it was different, when Sianni said it. It was unsettling, and not a little worrisome - there were expectations of him now that he wasn't sure he wanted - would be able - to meet.

Sianni peeked up from beneath a fall of silver-threaded forelock. _:Proud,:_ she repeated innocently.

He snorted, tugging sharply on her pale locks in retaliation for the hair-nibbling. _:I do not need reassurance of that sort.:_

_:Then of what sort do you need?:_

_:I do not need reassurance at all.: _Now it was Sianni's turn to snort, and he sighed. _:The manse's windows are little more than slits. Guards against arrows.:_

_:A former fortress, then?:_ she asked with her head tilted in curiosity. More than just curiosity. He felt a little frission of concern shivering through the bond at the non sequitar.

_Not quite as confident about me as you pretend to be, eh?_ He couldn't help smirking, just a little, but it faded quickly as he shrugged. _:Not quite. But the builders had fewer comforts in mind than one might expect for a place intended for summer stays. At least, that was what I found out. I had thought its construction was normal up until my seventh year there. I had thought that the windows were normal. It had never occurred to me that they could be different, despite all that I had been taught. All I ever knew, all I ever remembered...was the manse.:_

A fire had raged through the wing. A fire had claimed the entire Mrr'Thaine bloodline. Had there ever been flames in his dreams? Why had he not remembered windows other than those in the manse?

_:I looked out of windows before, knew where each one was placed. But...it was like looking at paintings. The outside didn't really exist, because it wasn't something that I could touch, that I could really...experience. Even the garden, the practice grounds...they were all completely walled, the stones rising far above my head. The first time I stepped past the main gates...:_

Space. An unimpeded horizon, interrupted only by small, distant things. No walls, no ceilings, and an enormity and knowledge of how much of the world was truly beyond his grasp, of how truly insignificant he really was. He had very nearly turned around to lock himself back in the manse without ever taking a real step outside of it, and had been halted only by the weight of Master's regard at his back.

_:I'm sorry, Kyn,:_ Sianni murmured, stepping forward to lay her head over his shoulder, her shields flowing over him in the process to sooth the ragged edges of his own as his control slipped.

_:For what?:_ he asked, taking a deep breath and resolutely tucking the memory of unreasoning fear away, reclaiming the still waters and remembering the unintentional audience that might pick up their conversation lounging all around in the stable. _:I think Nadia is wrong. I believe I was happy then, in my own way. Master may be strict...but he was always there. And he may have used me...but I've seen him use others, and then discard them. He made sure I would always be able to come back.:_

_:He made sure you would _always_ go back to him.:_

_:He made sure I would always be _able_ to go back. There is a difference.:_

A momentary pause, and then a ventured, _:But now it is time for you to walk away from him again. To step out once more.:_

His jaw tightened, one hand entangling itself in her mane and clenching tight about the silky strands. _:Is it really? How can I be sure? There is no going back if I leave this time.:_

_:I don't think you're looking for an answer - if there is one. You already know that things have changed too much - that you've changed too much. Your time under his tutelage has come to an end...just as he knew there would be a point where you could learn no more while shut away completely from the world.:_

Kyn stood unmoving, hearing the words neatly dissect the roil of unfocused feelings that stirred ceaselessly within. While there was a stubborn resistance to any such tidy categorization, thinking it far too easy an explanation...there was enough truth in it to relieve something inside. _If someone else understands it...then perhaps I am not wrong for thinking the same._

He gave her forelock a last tug as he pulled away. _:Excuse me. I have to go see some people now.:_

_:Of course,:_ Sianni responded, managing to sneak in a quick nuzzle with her nose before he slipped away.

* * *

"Nadia?" The name was uttered with the gentle timidity of a dove, the vowels softly rounded by a province accent. The young trainee blinked owlishly at him for a moment from her work sorting herbs. "Uhm...she _was_ here a little while ago...she's supposed to be supervising me today," the girl said vaguely, looking around the main hall.

Kyn sighed, wondering if the girl's absent-mindedness was what required supervision, or if it was a self-defense mechanism considering who was overseeing her.

_:I heard that.:_

He stiffened, reflexively checking his shields before turning to scowl at Nadia. "No you didn't," he accused.

Nadia shrugged with a gamine smile as she closed the door to a room she had just exited, a tray of small, carefully labeled bottles perched on one hip. "Alright, maybe I didn't," she agreed amiably. "But your reaction alone confirmed it was something you richly deserved. Celia, how much longer is that going to take you?"

The girl gazed down at the plant-strewn table, and informed mildly, "Two candlemarks."

Nadia, about to add something else, hesitated, frowned at the trainee, and pursed her lips. "Are you sure?"

The girl nodded and smiled up at the woman.

Nadia looked through her bottles for a moment, squinting at one label or another as she muttered beneath her breath, "Two candlemarks...maybe I should call Deekan in to help..."

"Two candlemarks should be enough time."

"Enough time for what?" the healer immediately snapped, fixing a glower on Kyn. "You decided you needed my help again?"

For all her bluster, he could feel her tentative brush over his shields, already probing delicately for obvious signs of hurt. Even miffed and annoyed, her instincts had reached out to diagnose and sooth. Exactly what he needed if he was to convince her of anything. "Yes," he said simply.

"No," she stated immediately, shifting her grip on the basket to stab a finger toward him. "I'm not some servant permanently on call at your whim. I can tell you don't have so much as a paper cut on you right now. So - good - bye," she all but spat, punctuating each syllable of the farewell with an emphatic poke at his chest.

He caught her wrist before she could turn away, leaning back to compensate when the expected start and tug away from him occurred, but not releasing her yet. "I'm sorry, Nadia."

"Let me go! You think you can still hold your petty threats - " Nadia continued to rant for a breath, a touch of real concern entering the sharper jerk she made trying to break free, before his words sank in. "What was that?" she asked suspiciously.

"I'm apologizing," he repeated patiently. "I acted badly in the past. Will you forgive me? Will you help me, Nadia?"

She all but gaped at him. He could see the slight slackening of the muscles in her jaw, the beginning part of her lips, before her gaze happened to stray aside at some small movement - to steady on the young trainee staring raptly at the two of them, the work forgotten for the moment. Jaw clenching abruptly, Nadia glared at the girl and with one more shake that finally saw Kyn's hold loosed from her arm, settled the tray of jars with a rattle on top of some herbs. "See that the rooms get restocked with these after you're done with that. No dawdling now."

The girl's expression fell visibly into disappointment, but she nodded in the end and took the tray off the table to set on the floor beside her, giving herself room to work in again.

"Come on," Nadia said tersely, snagging Kyn's elbow along the way as she strode briskly for the far end of a corridor. 

He docilely allowed himself to be led, content to remain silent as she dragged them into an empty storage room and slapped the door shut. One hand still flattened against the wood boards, she turned narrowed eyes on him and asked, "What's the catch?"

He tilted his head and asked mildly, "The catch?"

"Don't play games with me, Kyn, or so help me..." she growled, advancing on him.

Ignoring the incongruence of their reversed roles, he held his hands up in pacification, sliding a step back. "No catch. No tricks. I need your help. And even if my motives do not match with yours, at least we have a similar end in mind."

That managed to slow her, if not stop her altogether. Turning her head one way to peer at him out of the corners of her eyes, as if a different view would give her more insight, she asked slowly, "What do you mean? Why the sudden change of heart?"

"The latter does not impact this conversation," he informed coolly, straightening just enough to impress on her the fact that he would not budge on that particular matter. "But I will tell you that I agree the duke must be stopped. At all costs."

She abruptly shivered, folding her arms across her chest to glower at him, as if just remembering who he was. What he could do. "At all costs. What costs would those be? Is it true, what they said? That you killed two men yesterday, turning their own weapons on them?"

It was his turn to frown as he asked, "Who said?"

She shrugged, chin lifting ever so slightly. "People. The guard was there. Alberich was too, so the whispers didn't get that far or that loud, but do you really think that something like that wouldn't travel?"

He could feel his lips compress into a worried, bitter line as he pondered the revelation. He had not truly thought upon the matter; he was not used to worrying about consequences, when he had never committed such acts so prominently before. "How far would you say it has spread?"

"Oh, don't worry." There was an odd tremble in her voice though, that made him wonder whether she was trying to reassure him or herself. "Alberich, after all, has a vested interest in seeing this kept under wraps. For all they know, you're just some prodigy he's been harboring for his own purposes, and you were doing Herald's work when you were set upon."

He arched one brow sharply. "Does he know about that? Has he discouraged it?"

"Ha! Discouraged it? I'd almost say he was _en_couraging it, from his lack of comment on the matter. Others were certainly not shy about feeding their curiosity, and he didn't say nay to any of them when they asked - though I will say that I don't think he's the type to comment on much of anything if others try to poke their noses in. But I suppose the best way to convince people of something other than the truth is to encourage their own wild ideas."

He snorted at the improbable entanglements their reputations were going through, shaking his head, before shoving the entire matter aside. "Nadia, can you leave the capitol within the next ten days, for a handful more?"

She blinked at him, not a little like the trainee out in the main hall. "What? Why?"

"Because the duke has invited me out to his estate, ostensibly in order to thank me for saving his daughter's life."

She abruptly scowled. "What does that have to do with me? I'm not your nursemaid."

He looked steadily at her. "Ten days," he reminded quietly. "And on the eleventh day..."

She shook her head obstinately. "I don't know what you're..." Dawning realization halted the rest of her words as she looked sharply at him. "Ten days from what? From that episode of yours the other night?" She rolled her eyes ceilingward for a quick calculation before she stared at him. "Oh."

He nodded. "By the time we are well settled under his roof, it will be fourteen days exactly. That has always been the appointment for my dosages. With Master - or the duke, apparently."

"It was the duke who gave you the last infusion of drugs?" Nadia breathed, before abruptly swinging around, pacing the four steps across and back the small room. "He knows your master, then? Are they working together somehow?" She abruptly whirled on him, eyes wide. "What sort of game are you all playing?"

Kyn shook his head, allowing a frown of irritation to crease his brow. "No, Nadia, listen! I know it is too much to place the blame on coincidence, but make no mistake, Master is _not_ allied with the duke. I am being set in direct opposition to Se'Fannouel." He took a deep breath, calming himself. "Nadia, please. All I am asking...is that you give me the chance to confront the duke."

"'Confront'," she echoed distastefully. "Kill, you mean."

He shrugged. "If it will stop him. At all costs," he echoed his earlier sentiments, reminding her.

She huffed a sigh, absently blowing back a loose tendril of hair as she considered him. Walking slowly up, she tilted her head back to meet his eyes, a bare handspan separating their bodies, just far enough to allow eyes to focus without too much strain. "What exactly are you asking for?" she said softly, steel sheathed in soft, supple leather. "That I Heal you of the addiction? I can't - not won't, can't - do that. To somehow guard you from the effects of whatever he eventually doses you with? I can't do that either, not beforehand. Maybe after, I can relieve some of the effects, but there is no real advantage to dragging me with you."

"No, there is," he countered, equally quietly, equally intensely. "I can _ feel_ it. There are so many paths, all criss-crossing each other right now. I have never known the like. It worries me, Nadia, and as the past has shown, I make mistakes when I am not thinking clearly. I can't afford mistakes here."

"It's not just you, you know," Nadia informed tartly. "Or didn't you notice that Alberich has been chasing this thing down for the past few months? He has virtually every resource of the Heralds and the kingdom to levy at whatever threatens the queen! Why does it have to be about you?"

_"Vinsenail married. Within a year, the latter proclaimed that his new bride was with child...healthy baby boy. He was five years old..."_

_"Vinsen's progeny, those of his blood..."_

Kyn shuddered, dragging his attention reluctantly back to the present. "Because it _will_ be about me. Master made sure it would." 

The words slipped away before he could check them, before he could actually comprehend what they meant, and even as Nadia gave him an odd look, he felt something inside quake at the slow, inexorable revelations that forced themselves upon him. "Still," she continued stubbornly, though not without some reluctance, "I don't see how I would be able to help. If the duke is truly as nefarious as you all believe him to be, he certainly wouldn't allow a healer to tag along at a crucial moment, would he? And there is nothing I can do from afar."

"No, probably not," he agreed with a shake of his head. "But you will get your chance. I just want you to be...available. Just in case."

He expected some other argument, another rejoinder as to why he didn't need her presence at the duke's holdings. But as the silence stretched, he gradually noticed that she was once again giving him an odd look - but now, there was a strange, muted feel to her countenance. "Do you ever fear, Kyn?"

He rocked back on his heels in surprise, brows rising. "Of course. Why?"

"You don't look - you have Foresight, and the very fact that you're here, saying that you'll have need of a healer's services...yet you look completely unfazed. How old are you, Kyn?"

_"He was five years old when the Mrr'Thaines were wiped out..."_

He took a large step back, defensively. "I don't know," he informed flatly, suddenly unnerved by the line of questioning.

Nadia shook her head, still staring at him with those wide, wondering eyes, and he resisted the urge to take yet another step back. "Sometimes, you don't even appear completely human to me," she murmured, as if to herself. "You look like a Valdemaran. You speak like one, act like one, except...sometimes, something inexplicable, or something frightening slips through, and then all I can do is - "

He made a sharp, abortive gesture, one that finally halted the chilling stream of words. Consciously straightening, he asked coolly, "Will you come?"

It was not the sort of note he wanted to end his request on, with him on the defensive. But at this point, he was desperate enough to have done with the entire business, and let the other matters untangle themselves as they willed - _after_ the crisis was past.

The healer nodded. "I will. On the condition that _you _have to think of a plausible excuse for my presence."

Honestly surprised by the promptness of her agreement, Kyn nodded. "All right. For one more favor."

Her brow immediately beetled in annoyance, her patience and unexpected grace apparently at an end. "More? What now?"

Kyn reached up and tugged at his forelock, unconsciously crossing his eyes in an attempt to focus on the end. "I need help re-dyeing my hair. And it needs a trim."

* * *

Firefox - Heh! Birthing chapters... o.O* Whoa, what a concept. But I suppose I haven't exactly shattered that illusion yet. Ooooh...does this mean Kyn has a fan-club now?

M'cha Araem - *laughs* Yes, I know _exactly_ how that is. ^_~ And I'm happy that you're happy. (Everyone should be so happy when I update, neh? =P) And as for all of your questions...if this part didn't give a whole boat-load away, everything will eventually be explained in full. You just gotta have a little patience, I'm afraid. (I'm evil that way.) But I will include a 'cast of characters' section with my next posting if you want, mentioning names and a brief description of their role so far. What say you?

SCWLC - Thank you thank you thank you. =) I've noticed the tendency for an abrupt switch of sides in certain stories too, and I resolved to make the pacing quite a bit more gradual when I began this project (if there is a 'switch' at all). Nice to know that I'm managing all right thus far.

rurix2 - And I left you for last because you're eeeeeeeeeeeeevil. Eeeeeeeevil, I say! *COUNTER-MENTAL-POOOOOOOOOKE*


	15. The Words Between: part 12

I received an Amazon gift certificate the other day, and in one of the few brief moments of peace that I had in a day that happened to involve a computer connected to the internet, I went through and browsed through Amazon's collection. Lo and behold, I noticed that there was a new Mercedes Lackey book that is coming out...and who knew it, but it is the story of the un-Herald! o.O*

Now, the whole point of my mentioning this is that, not only have I placed an order for the book (and, in fact, have it in my hot little hands right now), I am profoundly embarrassed to be writing Alberich. Soon, I will be able to tell just how badly I have mangled his character. Really, after finding out that the book existed, I had the hardest time getting the rest of this chapter written because, quite simply, I wondered if I should just wait to get my hands on the book and finish reading it before I tried anything more concerning the fic. After much thought however, I decided that if I was to take up the task of rewriting all the previous sections containing Alberich's involvement anyway, one more section which may or may not involve an appearance by him was mere pennies in the pocket. I will try to keep you all updated concerning any changes in the previous chapters. 

I'm hoping there is nothing that will drastically change the plot, but you never know with those Heralds...

By the way, I notice that the reviews are rapidly crawling toward 100. =) A quick, but no less heartfelt THANK YOU to all those who have not only stuck it out with me thus far, but repeatedly reviewed with each chapter. Your encouragement was always welcomed, and through the tougher parts of the fic, was absolutely essential to its continuance. As a small token of my gratitude, I'd like to do _something_ for all of you...perhaps write something 'built-to-order', to borrow a popular term from work? 

Sound like a good idea? Sound like a bad idea? Want something else entirely? Want me to hurry up and finish the damned story before I even begin thinking about something else? A KFC membership card? (See sky's review for reference.) 

Hmmm...strawberry ice cream sounds pretty good right now... Anyway, lemme know. =)

The Words Between - part 12

Kyn braced his arms against the window casement, watching the shadows slowly stretch across the graveled path, one story down. Behind him, he could hear the low drone of an instructor's voice from one of several classes occurring up and down the hall. Several were concerned with advanced figuring of one sort or another; this building was unofficially claimed by the artificers. But there was a scattering of other subjects that were somewhat related to the mathematics if not in the direct field of engineering; one of them specifically in the application to financial matters, such as the classroom he had stationed himself directly opposite of.

Movement drew his attention to one side, a man coming slowly down the path, gaze roaming carefully over the building's facade. When he spied Kyn standing before the second story window, he gave a small nod and even flashed a brief grin before straying toward one of the lecture halls' entrances. It seemed Alberich's promised guard had caught up.

He honestly didn't know how useful a guard would be, but had let Alberich do what he wished anyway. It was a token of faith on his part; the guards could just as easily double as watchers, allowing the weaponsmaster to keep a track of Kyn's movements. But his initial, reflexive reaction had been that whatever was attempted would be useless. What Master wanted done, would be done, regardless of the effort invested otherwise. Except that Kyn now held the bitter knowledge that Master was not infallible; he himself was the very embodiment of one of Master's more spectacular failures. There was disappointment at the thought, both in himself and in Master. The manse no longer meant safety - either from the world outside, or from the dangers held within. How ironic, that he was the very reason he could no longer place such faith in his Master again.

His fingers tightened on the wood trim as he pressed his forehead against the chill glass with a sigh. The rising murmur of excited voices within the classrooms distracted him from his increasingly morbid musings, and he stirred after a moment to turn and lean back against the casement instead, folding his arms across his chest. Not long after, doors began to open, the noise level increasing at least ten-fold as a mix of blue and grey-uniformed trainees spilled out of their classes. Kyn straightened, drawing his feet closer, away from the growing press of people passing by.

His lack of height had never truly bothered him before, but he was never more conscious of it than now. He was just tall enough for others to notice him waiting quietly by the window, though thankfully any attention he drew was short-lived. But he found to his irritation that he was also just short enough that he had to crane his head to make out the tops of those filing out. At least there was nothing wrong with his hearing. Bryn's bright chatter floated over the general conversations, easily detectable with its free, uninhibited speech.

The boy simply let every stray thought pass directly to his tongue, and Kyn couldn't help marveling at just how much Brin had to say...and how raptly the others in the little group migrating with him listened. He could not deny the boy had a remarkable facility with words, and an unconscious air that many might term 'charming'. Certainly Nadia had been doting over him during their brief encounters, and there was a peculiar note of fondness in Sianni's 'speech whenever the boy was mentioned. It was unfortunate that Brin had not fully realized his talents yet. It might have saved him quite a few incidents where bullies like Stef were concerned.

"Brin," Kyn called as he pushed away from the window, threading his way toward the group when it began to stray toward the stairs. One wheat-capped head turned as someone else took up the thread of conversation, blue eyes searching the crowd blindly. Kyn raised a hand helpfully, and the eyes widened as recognition set in.

"Kyn!" the boy called before tendering hasty farewells to his friends. While the rest of the group continued with the drift of bodies emptying out of the hall, Brin pushed against the flow to stumble to a halt right before Kyn, beaming. "Kyn, you're all right! How long have you been up? Shouldn't you be with the healers? When did you cut your hair, and I don't know if it's the lighting or something else, but it seems to be a little darker..."

Kyn held up his hands with a sigh, halting the river of words. Yes, Bryn truly excelled in the field of conversation, but he had yet to learn how to turn the talent off, a lack which Kyn resolved to take up with him sometime soon. "Not now, Brin. Do you have a moment?"

The boy blinked at him as if he had asked a very stupid question, but was too polite to mention it. "For you? Of course. What did you need?"

_Of course._ As if he was completely at Kyn's disposal, and why would anyone think otherwise? Shaking off the momentary discomfort the thought prompted, Kyn motioned for the boy to follow him, finally joining the remainder of the trainees filing out of the building. In the peripheries of his vision, Kyn caught glimpses of the man that he had seen earlier, trailing far behind, but still within sight and maintaining the distance.

_Ridiculous,_ Master would have sneered. _Guards might be placed against you, or on you...but _for_ you? It would negate the entire purpose of your existence. Your worth lies in the balance of how much you can accomplish against the impact your loss would engender. As soon as it becomes necessary to guard you, you have lost all worth to me._

Worthless to Master, but still of worth enough to the Heralds to warrant the extra effort for now. But afterwards? What would his worth be afterwards?

"This way," he prompted Brin when they stepped out of the building, the boy following with a puzzled sound, clumsily trying to slip on his jacket while keeping a hold of school ledgers, until Kyn took pity on him and helped carry the latter while the boy fastened the former. Kyn himself left his coat open, the garment forgotten when he had been preoccupied in his thoughts waiting for classes to end, but now allowing the chill air to dissipate some of the heat generated while indoors. The next rain to fall on the capitol would, more likely than not, land as snow.

"How are you feeling, Kyn?"

He looked to the side with one brow crooked in question before replying dryly, "I feel quite sane, thank you, Brin."

The boy flushed, ducking his head and asserting hastily, "No, I meant how are you _feeling_. I mean, the last time I saw you, you were still...still..." He gestured helplessly with his hands, apparently discomfited enough by the memory to lose his usually firm grasp of words.

"Ah, yes," Kyn remarked as he took a long look around before slowing to a stop. Copses huddled nearby, the skeletal branches of deciduous plants intertwined with their hardier cousins. A pale, equine shape ghosted across the open field, pausing just long enough to catch Kyn's eye before it continued in a wide circle toward the sound of a brook winding behind a thicket. 

The guard had been passed on. Kyn didn't know whether he should feel impressed by the discretion of those working according to Alberich's purposes, or feel like bait staked out before a waiting trap. Would Alberich do such a thing? Hope to reel in some other agent that might divulge Master's location or identity? "Which reminds me, I have yet to thank you for your visit, Brin."

The boy's entire countenance lit up at the simple praise. "You actually heard me? I felt kind of silly at first, but..." Brin shrugged, still grinning.

Kyn nodded indulgently, habitually scanning the area once more as they talked. "It was most certainly enlightening, in many respects. But I am afraid I will have to impose upon you one more time."

"Oh, it wouldn't be an imposition at all! What did you need help with?"

"You are interested in maps, correct? So you know the best places to find them." Kyn waited for an affirming nod before finishing, a little gratified that he had read the boy correctly and Brin had not just been feigning the hobby for the purposes of smuggling information, "I need you to find me the floor plans to Lynxfinn Holdings."

Brin opened his mouth, paused, closed it, and repeated the process again before stammering, "W-why do you need those?"

Kyn arched one brow. "Why do you think, Brin?"

The boy swallowed visibly, actually shuffling back a step. "But...the last time you met the duke...he was the one who did that to you, wasn't it? Sianni said so. Why do you want to go to _him_?"

Did that to him. Stole his body away from his control. Assaulted his mind and nearly made him unwilling accomplice to Master's discovery. Taunted and played with him like a cat with prey...simply because he could. "It is _because_ of what he did to me that I have to go," Kyn answered softly - and then consciously relaxed as he noticed Brin blanching. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "The duke has invited me to his estate in about ten days. Will you come with me?"

The boy's eyes widened. "The duke invited you to - how did you manage to get an invitation? And an invitation to what; I didn't hear about any fetes being hosted by the duke at that time. And..." He trailed off, shifting his weight nervously, visibly trying to cover an almost superstitious fear. "Uhm, if you really need me, Kyn, I'll go. But...what use would I be? I don't think there's anything I can really do if the duke's going to try something else..."

"Your Farsight," Kyn informed, tapping a fingertip against Brin's forehead, making the boy start. "And another set of eyes and ears. Beyond the maps, I might need the aid of your Gift, and someone else to be where I cannot."

The tow-headed boy perked up a bit at that. "Really?"

Kyn suppressed a twinge of impatience at the constant need for reassurance, and stated as levelly as he could, "Really."

"All right, well, I would have to arrange my assignments and any tests with my instructors for the days I will be gone...how long will we be there?"

"A couple of - " Kyn broke off abruptly, frowning as a chill ghosted across the back of his shoulders. "A couple of days," he finished as casually as he could, even as he shivered at the prickle of cold sweat that had suddenly sprung up in the sensation's wake.

"Is everything all right?"

Kyn nodded firmly before the concern evident in Bryn's wide eyes, and motioned the boy away. "You better start getting your affairs in order. We will have to leave in a few days if we want to get there in time. It wouldn't do to arrive late on the duke's doorstep." He couldn't quite keep the irony from his voice, and Brin looked slightly puzzled and not a little discomfited but nodded anyway. Hugging his texts close, he said a quick goodbye and hurried back across the field. Kyn absently rubbed his arms as he watched the boy leave, trying to rid himself of the pins-and-needles prickling across his skin.

A couple of - what? The sudden foreboding that had throttled the word 'days' in his throat had hinted at something much, much longer. Weeks? Months? Years? 

He only hoped that it would not become a permanent residence, with their bones rotting in some hidden corner of the land.

* * *

Kyn woke from darkness to white.

The shadows had returned to haunt his nights, but lacked the definition to produce the pupil-less eyes and black teeth they had revealed before, remaining unusually indistinct for a dream that he claimed. Instead, they had contented themselves with merely their lisping whispers and disturbingly warm brushes; lighter than spider's silk, softer than a baby's breath, as illusory as the last wisp of fog before a morning's light.

There were no telltales this time to indicate whether it was mere dream or true vision though its vagueness hinted at the former, but Kyn took it as a warning irregardless. Not that it was particularly useful either way, beyond rousing him at odd hours of the night, fighting the clinging efforts of the blankets. When the sliver of light sneaking through a crack in the drapes finally slithered over his covers, he gave up on finding anything more - whether it be clues or rest - and emerged from beneath them, giving a single, convulsive shudder at the abrupt change in temperature. Picking up a light jacket that had slipped to the floor in the evening, he walked toward the windows, pulling the curtains aside with a wide sweep of his arm.

Light. A world of dazzling, crystalline whiteness overwhelmed his vision for a moment, and he turned sharply away, squinting sidelong from behind a belatedly raised hand. It had snowed in the evening, creeping in as stealthily as a fox, dusting everything with a thin layer of sugary powder.

_:Most of it will melt by noon.:_

He unlatched the window and pushed the pane open, leaning out. He could just spy Sianni approaching from far left of the building, her stride light and playful, occasionally kicking a hoof out to send a cloud of displaced snowflakes skirling upwards. _:By late afternoon, the snowmelt will probably freeze again into ice. You'll want to watch your step.:_

_:I do not plan on spending much time outside today,:_ Kyn assured, remembering the jacket when the muscles in his jaw began to tremble from the chill air. _:Where is Alberich?:_ he asked as he searched out clean clothes to replace his sleepwear, quickly slipping on the jacket afterwards.

_:Closeted with the Queen's Own, I believe.: _Sianni snorted into the last snowburst she had created and settled into a more sedate walk, raising her head to peer up at him as she approached his window._ :Are you planning on skipping classes again?:_

He snorted in turn. _:Considering the number I have already missed, a handful or two more will likely have little impact. If they taught anything pertinent to the current situation, I would go. Otherwise, what time I have left can be put to more productive uses.:_

_:And learning isn't productive?:_

_You will learn it because I say so, boy. Do you think my only need for you is your physical prowess? I would do better hiring myself a common mercenary! I owe you no explanation beyond my purposes for you requiring such knowledge, Kyn, and you _will_ prove to my satisfaction that you have absorbed it completely..._

Kyn shook himself and pulled away from the window. _:Stop pretending that I am normal,:_ he sent darkly, pouring a measure of water into the washbasin and performing a brief ablution, just enough to make himself presentable in public. Drying off his face and hands, he approached the door.

_:No, you are not normal. But neither is anyone else. Everyone is unique, with special circumstances accompanying their upbringing. 'Normal' is merely a convenient expression for a common experience that may or may not exist.:_

A man clothed in a nondescript shirt and leggings lounged casually in the suite abutting his room, but unlike his first night of 'captivity', this guard merely nodded to him as he passed instead of trying to restrain him. Presumably, Sianni's presence would be considered deterrent enough if the man was not to shadow him. Waiting until he had exited the building and could give her a suspicious glare personally, Kyn replied, _:Do you know Herald Pellios?:_

She blinked at him, and there might have been a touch more wide-eyed innocence in her expression than might have been warranted. _:By reputation. Why? Isn't he your instructor in philosophy and ethics?:_

Kyn more than suspected that Alberich had given the man special instructions where he was concerned. Pellios already had a habit of waxing pedantic on his topics; sometimes, it seemed he focused his lectures a little more pointedly on Kyn, with the unfortunate side effect of making him even more longwinded than before as he tried to drive some obscure point home. The moral dilemmas and situations the instructor posed might have been interesting - if Kyn were at all concerned with anything but the end results. He couldn't ignore the fact that his indifferent participation in the class might have had something to do with Pellios' stubborn attempt to shape him into an upstanding citizen, goading the man in indirect challenge. But there was little he could stand to gain in appeasing the man, and his energy was better saved for other endeavors. _ :Never mind,:_ he concluded with a sigh as he tucked his hands deep into his jacket pockets. There would be no getting a straight answer from Sianni in her current mood, even if she was guilty of dissembling in the first place. _:Why are you always so disgustingly cheerful?:_

_:It's not like you can claim you're not a morning person,:_ she retorted loftily, her muzzle straying dangerously toward the nape of his neck though he had yet to feel anything more substantial than the warm puff of her breath. _:Besides, someone has to balance all those black moods of yours. And why did you go and have Nadia cut your hair? Now I have nothing to nibble on...:_

_:That was the point,:_ he returned smugly, turning on the path that would eventually end at the library. A pair of trainees approached and passed to their left, the two boys each scrubbing sleepy eyes and stifling yawns in turn as they absently nodded to Kyn and Sianni. As he nodded back in response, Kyn couldn't help thinking how absurd such a sight such as they would be anywhere else in the land; a horse walking tamely along a snow-covered walkpath alongside him like a faithful hound.

_:I'm more useful, though, and considerably more handsome,:_ Sianni boasted with a flutter of her lashes and a strut in her step.

_:Stop interrupting my thoughts,: _he tried to grump, resisting the urge to tug the mane on the crest of her neck when she arched it absurdly. _:I can't string two of them together without you - :_

_:Jumping in and scattering them?:_

This time he gave in to temptation and gave the nearest handful of white strands a sharp jerk, eliciting an amused whuffle from the Companion. The first butt of her head caught him by surprise, and he staggered to the side a few steps before he caught himself. The second he managed to dodge, but when he tried to skip around her, she quite resolutely stepped in front of him, blocking his way. "What are you doing?" he asked in annoyance, lapsing momentarily into verbal speech.

_:You've forgotten the first thing you should do after stepping out of your room.:_

"And that is?"

_:Breakfast.:_

He stared at her, and she stared steadily back until he reluctantly turned toward the branch in the path that she had been herding him toward.

_:Sianni? Will you tell me something? Truthfully?:_

_:Haven't I always been truthful to you?:_

_:This is important to me. Just say yes or no.:_

_:All right. Yes.:_

He glanced aside at her, habit searching for human expressions to indicate whether she was taking it as seriously as he wished. It was still something of a jar sometimes, to converse with her as if she were another person and suddenly find that she was housed in the body of a horse instead. _:Whose side would you take, if it came down to me or the heralds?:_

_:What do you mean by that?:_

He was somewhat gratified to hear - _feel_ - the beginnings of worry snaking into her 'speech. It meant that she was paying attention. _:You know what I mean. If I did something opposed to what the heralds wish...that might even place one of them in danger...:_

_:You would never do such a thing. And you would never allow it to happen.:_

He stopped and turned with a scoffing laugh. "I know you're not naive, Sianni! I have hardly been 'converted' to the heralds' cause, and in eleven days' time, I may be placed in a position that is going to make me choose. And there is no doubt in my mind as to which side I would choose."

Sianni retreated a step - actually retreated - and turned to focus one eye on him. _:Then what are you asking me?:_

He took a deep breath, felt something welling up from the pit of his stomach, an unease that warned against the consequences of what he was about to say. Something tickled at the edges of his thoughts, a half-formed idea that he might have turned away from if foreboding had not lent it substance. _Choose. There's no time left; you must choose. _And so he steeled himself for the results, and even managed to meet Sianni's expectant gaze. "I am asking if I can trust you."

There was silence. Silence deep, and dreadful, and with a distant start, he realized that even her presence in his mind - a constant hum that he no longer even noticed now until its absence - was muted. _:You are asking me...if you can trust me.:_

Frozen by the inevitability of the scene's unfolding, wordlessly cursing his inconstant Gift and the choices - or rather, choice - he was given by it, Kyn could only stare silently back at her.

Sianni abruptly snorted and flung her head up in anger, dancing back with an uncharacteristic clatter of overturned gravel, muddying the pristine snow beneath her hooves. _:After all this time, Kyn, after _I _have placed my trust in _you _without question...and you need ask if you can trust me?!:_

It hurt. He flinched, almost more in surprise than anything else; he had never felt anything like it. A bitter mixture of sorrow, loneliness and regret, all arising from some unknown and heretofore unsuspected corner of himself, pricked to life by Sianni's furious words.

_:Perhaps I had been mistaken,:_ Sianni continued coldly, pawing one last time at the abused walkpath before wheeling about, breaking into a canter. Away from him. _:If you find a need to ask such a question, Kyn, I wonder if you would ever find it within yourself to place trust in _anyone_, no matter what they said.:_

_It's not like that,_ he silently pleaded, but the words never left the confines of his own mind. In fact, it felt disturbingly empty within his skull. Less than a handful of months ago, he had railed at the constant presence of another sentience forced upon him. Now he felt...hollow. Oh, if he tried, he could still find the bare root of the Companion bond, quiescent and nearly undetectable. But what would be the point if the owner of the other half had not only closed the door but locked it?

_Is it worth it?_ What had he been thinking, when he had let those words slip away from him? No, no, he hadn't been thinking, which had been part of the problem...but upon setting foot on this path, he could not go back. No, he had to believe this was the best way...it _had_ to be...because if he could back out now, if he could be just another 'normal' person, like Brin, or Nadia, or half the collegium...it would have been all for nothing. His entire life up till now would have been for nothing. And then what excuse would justify the person he was?

_If offered the choice, would you have chosen your life with Master?_

He sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut and delving for the garden and the pond. Now that he had actually done it, he needed to know if it would turn out all right. Brin and Nadia, he could rationalize away, but Sianni? Sianni who had attached herself to him for no more reason than that he needed it? Foolish, brave, overprotective, cheerful Sianni who tried to stand between him and everything...no, he would not take her with him. The others were either sensible enough to watch out for themselves, or at least massed several times less than she did - enough for him to manhandle if necessary. Master may have claimed him for his purposes, but nobody else needed to be drawn in.

Foresight had ever been a fickle thing. From what the heralds said, it was never really controllable, or even predictable. But with enough purpose and focus, he had always been able to tease out little hints and flashes, if not full-blown visions...as he did now. He managed to catch the faintest whiff of what he had glimpsed before - a taste that had subtly changed. Heart jumping, he lunged after the fleeting sensation, intent on dragging it to the fore, bringing it into focus through sheer determination - 

There was the curious sensation of something's - someone's - attention turning toward him. And then a _snapping_, as if something had been stretched too far and was rebounding into place like a bowstring, flinging him and what he sought in opposite directions. Dizziness and nausea assaulted him with a suddenness that drove him to his knees almost before he had registered their unwelcome presence, huddling over with a surprised whimper until his forehead was grazing the disturbed snow gathered about his folded legs.

_What happened?_ the ragged thought floated through his head, breaths coming in fitful gasps as he grasped weakly for control over his own body. Breathing deeply through clenched teeth, he tried to recall what had brought him to such a state - and felt a cramp tighten his middle when another bout of disorientation clouted him over the head. Carefully, oh so carefully, he retreated from any subjects that had anything to do with his ForeSight or what it might have revealed, and was gradually able to straighten up, releasing his pent up breath in a long, low hiss.

What in havens had just happened? Either something had happened to his ability to wield his Gift - and while he had been warned about the dangers of overreaching one's limits, he imagined straining one's gift of Foresight was highly unlikely, considering the lack of conscious control one had over it - or something else was getting in the way. Someone else. Was it the drugs the duke had given him? Was it Master himself, seeking to claim every advantage he could over his former protégé? Did Master have enough control over him to do something like that to him? Would Master have bothered? Perhaps it would explain why he had dreamt of nothing but half-formed remembrances.

Drawing a shaking hand over his face, he turned off the path, heading for the Healer's Hall, shivering from more than just the snow's chill.

* * *

Kyn lifted one brow as he was met by Nadia's scowl, a wild frizzle of hair left unbound to sloppily halo face and shoulders, and a hasty clutch at the opening of a sleep robe thrown on over a nightshift.

"Don't you ever sleep?!" Nadia snapped before he had done more than open his mouth, and slammed the door closed in his face.

Kyn released his indrawn breath and folded his arms across his chest. _:Is it my fault that you don't keep the same hours as everyone else in Valdemar? It has been at least a candlemark since the sun's full rising.:_

_:It's not _me_ at fault, but _you_. If you must bother me at such a godforsaken hour after I've had an evening shift, you can bloody well wait in the hall until I'm presentable!:_

Sighing, he retreated to the opposite wall and leaned against it, eyes flicking toward one of a series of small, scallop-shaped windows dotting the upper band of the corridor near the ceiling. As he waited, he couldn't help trying to prod some sort of foreseeing out into the open - even as he reflexively flinched away whenever anything more than a foggy warning began to coalesce. _Worse than a sore tooth..._

"All right, what's the emergency?" Nadia asked waspishly around a yawn after dragging her door open once more.

"I need you to watch me while I try something," Kyn said, resisting the urge to make some remark concerning her definition of 'presentable' and pushing away from the wall.

The healer stared levelly at him, her expression growing darker with each moment that ticked by. "You want me to _what_?"

He shook his head as he stopped an arm's length from her. "I know how it sounds. But something's wrong; I can't access my Sight. I need to know whether the reason is internal or external."

She relented somewhat, but her demeanor was still skeptical as she finally stepped aside, tacitly inviting him in. "What do you mean you can't access your ForeSight?"

"I don't have conscious control over it," he explained as he moved past her, glancing about her room. In it for the first time, he couldn't help noting its contents with more than casual interest. It seemed that it was but a temporary domicile for when she had to work close to the hall - most of the items were merely supplies or other tools of the healer's trade, along with a few bare essentials for living, such as the bed, little more than a pallet thrown over a wood frame. Sense, of a sort, if she had a lifebonded. Most likely, they claimed a home of their own somewhere else, away from their respective work. The only item that was ostentatiously out of place was a spear leaning against one corner - slender, hook-tipped, inlaid with shell and with a cord wound about its shaft, the excess length gathered into a tidy knot near its middle. "But," he continued distractedly, turning back to face her as she closed the door, "usually, I'm able to trigger something from it. A murmur. A whisper. Sometimes even a full foreseeing."

"Except?" Nadia prompted with an upraised brow, impatiently wiping back a curl of dark hair, picking up a hair tie from the bedstand and braiding her mane with quick, economical movements.

"Except that I tried that this morning...and was stopped." He shook his head at her exasperated expression, and added, "I don't know how to explain it. The best I can do is try to show you - "

Sighing, the woman dragged the sole chair in the room over and indicated that he should sit on the bed. "Kyn, do you know that you are rapidly reaching the record number of visits a trainee has ever made to the healers? In their entire academic career, much less in the space of less than three months. After all this is over, I want you to take a nice, long vacation far away from here...and let me sleep in for once."

He didn't bother wasting breath on a retort as he did what she bade, sitting down on the bed's edge. Nadia positioned the chair before him and sat down herself, smoothing out some residual wrinkles from the uniform she had hastily donned before reaching out for his hands. "All right," she said. "Do whatever it is you do to get that Gift of yours working, and I'll see what I can find."

Nodding, he took a deep breath to steady himself, tentatively sought out the image of the pond's glassine surface and dimension-less depths, reminded himself of the warm weight of her grasp around his, and thought of - 

_Se'Fannouel, Mrr'Thaine, Master, Lynxfinn, Brin, shadows, Sianni, griffins, Sianni, foxes, Sianni, Sianni-_

There should be something there. Things had been hovering near for so long now that he almost couldn't separate the sensation of anticipation from his days anymore, just the constant strain of waiting for something to happen, until the smallest germ of an image planted would flower into - 

_- Silence. And then nothing but a too soft, too gentle, _:I'm sorry,:_ and Sianni turned away from him -_

_- The first shadow was born with a lipless screech, scrabbling mindlessly at the edges of - _

_- "...is truly remarkable," a platinum-blond haired man said, an avid curiosity in glass-green eyes that turned from him to the picture of - _

_- Mennifei, one cheek smudged with blood and hair a tangled mass spilling over one shoulder, clutched the trembling child close. "When the royal line failed, _dukes_ were once made _kings_..." -_

_- "Once, _dukes _became _kings_," Se'Fannouel informed, eyes cold and touch even icier as the duke tilted his chin back and - _

"Stop!"

Kyn shuddered violently, blearily refocusing on the healer. "What - ?"

"Calm down," Nadia said, gaze locking on his and refusing to release it as she tried to disentangle her hands from his grip, her features pale and pinched. "Relax. Let me go."

"Let - ?" Belatedly, he pried his fingers open, feeling tendons creak from the residual tension. "What happened?"

"You tell me," she said dryly, massaging her hands. "What did you See?"

"I..." He rubbed his eyes, shoulders hunching. "I...don't know. There were so many things...but never like this. Sometimes I would only get snatches, but this time...it was as if they were being perpetually interrupted."

"Was this how it was before?"

"No." He glanced up, peering through a fringe of dark-dyed hair without raising his head. "No, the first time something went wrong, I was literally knocked off my feet. Not pain, exactly, just...disorientation. Distracting me. Keeping me from pursuing what I wanted to know."

Nadia's gaze dropped to the floor as the pursed her lips pensively, brow furrowing in thought while one hand continued to worry unconsciously at the other.

"What did you feel?" he asked in turn.

She shook her head once, reaching out toward him again, fingertips cool on his temple. "I'm...not sure," she said, tone abstracted in concentration. "There's something different about you though, something different from yesterday, though I hadn't performed a thorough examination by any stretch of the imagination. Have you ingested anything that might have resulted in such changes?"

"Nothing."

Nadia dropped her hand and stared at him pensively. "I don't know what to tell you, Kyn. I've never seen or heard anything like your case before. If the circumstances were any less dire, I would have welcomed the challenge..." She took his hand again, but this time turned it around to push up his sleeve, tracing one of the long, thin scars decorating his inner wrist. "Is this a part of your master's dark arts?" she asked softly, a hint of morbid curiosity in her voice. "What do you know of what he can do to you? What sort of hold does he have over you?"

Kyn jerked his hand back, retreating from her touch and her questions. "I know nothing of these 'dark arts' you speak of." _A lie. A half-lie at best. You know what she means. You know just enough not to interrupt when Master does not reply to the first call, you know just enough to stand quiet and still and be very, very careful that you do not disturb the lines or his concentration and you watch, you wait and you watch..._

The healer's face immediately smoothed into a cold mask. "You're the one who asked me for help," she reminded ungently.

He bit his tongue, stilling his first, instinctive response. Reminding himself that he had indeed requested her help, and that he still desperately needed it especially after the latest development, he dipped his head in acceptance and said quietly, "You're right. I'm sorry, Nadia."

A pause followed, in which he noted her uneasy shift in the edges of his vision, and which she belatedly broke with a somewhat flustered sound as if she had started with a completely different response in mind before he had apologized. "I suppose you would have a few distractions these days."

"You're being unusually forgiving," he noted wryly. _Would you be so forgiving if you knew what I have said to Sianni today? Does your forgiveness matter? Master, why am I here...it had been so much easier with just you to please..._

"Don't get used to it," Nadia snapped, but the remonstration seemed half-hearted at best. Cupping his face with her hands, she ordered in a brisk, clinical voice even as he felt the questing nudge of her gift, and automatically dismantled his shields before its touch, "I want you to contact me immediately if there are any changes, either in your health, or what you can perceive with your Gifts. After a closer look now, perhaps you're not as well off as I had thought you were after that cursory examination yesterday. I really don't know what it is the duke gave you, but it's really no substitute for what your body normally craves, and the deterioration is obvious."

"How reassuring."

She frowned, giving his head a little shake. "Listen well, because this is exactly what you asked me to do; try and give you a clear head so that you can continue working. You'll want to remain close to Sianni. The Companion Bond might be able to help. If nothing else, her presence can act as support and buffer. Even if an anchor doesn't help, it can't hurt either."

_Except that I just cut that anchor away this morning._ "Anything else?"

There was a last, lulling warmth that spread from her touch, and then Nadia pulled away, shaking her head. "No. Just let me know exactly when and where you want me for this field trip of yours. And what will be my cover?"

He considered that for the briefest of moments before he stated, "You won't need one. You'll be there in the exact capacity that you claim now - as my healer."

One slender brow arched sharply at that. "_Your_ healer? And I thought the whole point was to conceal that fact?"

"No, the point was to have you near at hand." He stood, tugging his tunic straight, feeling unaccountably restless and distantly annoyed that he couldn't tell if it was a repressed Sight or an addiction that was the cause. "He knows what he gave me. He knows I should be ailing. It would only make sense if I brought you with me."

There was a soft, dull thunk as the chair's legs shifted back with Nadia's movement and settled down to the greystone floor as she stood. "What? 'Near at hand'? How is that going to get me to you if you decide to go into a fit from withdrawal, and Se'Fannouel doesn't want me near?"

"If he doesn't want you near, nothing you or I can contrive would allow for it," he noted flatly. "But even if I am unavailable, I'm sure your services will still be in high demand."

Nadia folded her arms, narrowing her eyes. "I am beginning to think I should be bringing half a contingent of healers with me. What exactly is going on over there? How could all of this have been sleeping right under everyone's nose and nobody notice until now?"

_The question isn't how they had managed to hide it, but why they bothered to at all. If the duke knew of the existence of Jendail and the nephew...why had he not taken steps to eliminate that threat before?_ "I wouldn't presume to know. Thank you again, Nadia. I will, no doubt, be seeing you again soon." With a crooked, bitter smile offered in parting, he let himself out of her room.

* * *

Afraid it's not as terribly exciting, but I can't be having things happening _all_ the time. =) Hope you haven't been bored out of continuing to wait for the next part, though, cuz I promise things're gonna happen there. (SPOILER ALERT! Oh, btw, as requested by M'cha, there is a lineage chart of a sort up now at http://www.ocf.berkeley.edu/~jackteng/WB-FamilyTree.pdf. I have put up a spoiler alert, just in case some people _really_ like being kept in the dark. =P I dunno, really, how much seeing the chart will really spoil, but it's nice to stay on the safe side.)

Firefox - Wheee! Kyn's never had a fan club before...*I've* never had a fan club before... Thank you so very much for the praise - and by the way, can I get one of those little stuffed Companion dolls too? looks hopefully at you with big starry eyes

killaria - bows Your wish is my command. ^_^ 

M'cha - Well, I've partially filled the order. =P I figured that family, at least, was the biggest mess. The only other OC's I've got floating around should be fairly memorable (I hope) right now, but if you would like a listing of everyone else, don't hesitate to ask. And I'm sorry, but I really, really tried to do the prompt updating thing. =( RL got in the way again, however, not to mention unexpected writer's block. Hopefully they won't gang up on me again.

sky - ROFLOL!! I couldn't get that outta my head for the next 3 days after reading what you wrote... KFC... Wow, two whole members already. I should start sketching out designs for the membership card, now. =P

ola - Fixed! ^_^ And thanks for pointing that out. Heehee...if you can hold on to your seat for three to five more chapters (a rough estimate, since I haven't exactly outlined all of them, but we're *very* close to that point, I can assure you), you'll find the answers to *all* the questions you just asked, promise.

SCWLC - Phew, you had me worried there for a moment. Afraid I'm a little jumpy of any other huge mistakes I might've made with either characterization or plot now, thinking about the need to fine-tune Alberich (although, I flew home for a weekend and was gratified to discover after a *really* quick scan of Thief, that I didn't misremember the un-Herald's tendency for odd speech patterns, even if I didn't quite capture it perfectly; will continue to work on that). Anyway, if you're going to all the effort of reading and then reviewing my writing, I figured I could expend a little more effort to reply back. =P All your comments are not for...well, naught. (Forgive me for that rather lame bit of witticism...it's late.) snickers Thank you, and forgive me if I say that I hope to keep you guessing for a little while longer. ^_~

Lady Night Wind - And here be another part, with another one to follow soon after, hopefully. =) (Though, lately I seem to be jinxing myself with that 'soon' part...perhaps I should say that the next part will come in a loooooong long time instead... o.O*)

jessica - LOL My apologies, my roommate must finally be rubbing off on me. ^_^ (That would be the odd rurix2, btw; I learned evil directly from her, and let me tell you, it was no easy apprenticeship. She's a hard taskmistress.)

WingsofJade - patpats Oh, I sympathize completely. I barely survived two weeks on limited dial-up, much less being internet-less altogether. =*( Heheheh...but it's a cycle that I, for one, don't want stopped anytime soon. =P And I finally have the moving thing settled, at least for the rest of this year, thank you. =)

megan - Perfectly understandable. I fully appreciate your returning to continue reading and review, blush especially with such high praise. Thank you thank you.

rhianikki - Thank you very much. ^_^ Heh, actually, I *was* very worried about the pacing of the plot, but if you feel that it's been all right thus far...also, it's kinda helped that the conspiracy's grown with the writing, so I actually ended up with a lot more to reveal than I had at the beginning. ;) Hopefully I'll continue satisfying your expectations.

Lola - Thank you!


	16. The Words Between: part 13

The Words Between - part 13 (a most auspicious number, as we all know... ;)

_How far you have fallen from the tree, Kyn. Has the rot and the worm begun to reveal themselves, yet? Or do they still lurk within the hollowed core, hidden away beneath an innocent, blameless surface?_

No...

_Was there regret? Did you hesitate when you turned away from my guidance, that had led you without mishap for as long as you could remember?_

No, it was not as you say...you twist the words...

_Ah, even now you seek to escape the consequences. Do you recall my lessons, or have you already willfully discarded all things related to the life you once had? Consequences, boy, never fear the consequences -_

No! You can be wrong...you _are_ wrong in this...it's not the consequences that I will not accept, but the results themselves...

_And you would defy me even as you _-

No, Master...please...

_You will _not_ beg, boy! Never beg, never submit, never relinquish what others try to take!_

Kyn sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flying wide as he started upright, an arm automatically lifting to ward off the dry, scarred touch he could have _sworn_ had brushed his jaw as if to lift his face up to meet...to meet...

"Dreams. They are all dreams right now," he muttered beneath his breath, rubbing his face and then scraping his hands back through his hair with another deep breath. Except that the reassurance itself carried its own host of concerns, such as his lost Sight and the disturbing bent his mind's nighttime meanderings had taken - disturbing to one who recalled few troubling dreams in a life that had been filled with its own sort of stability. By all means, he had not had a vision every single night, and even those that had visited during his waking moments had been relatively far between. But in interesting times such as now, they had been far more prolific, and he missed the comfort they could bring, even if it was by little more than a handful of marks. How did others live with such nonchalant blindness? Nobody could anticipate every turning the future might take, but to know absolutely nothing at all and be daily tormented by their worries and uncertainties? Forever?

He stood abruptly, forcing himself to ignore the residual lethargy and reassemble all the papers, maps, and books he had gathered. Three days, a thirteen degree drop and two snowfalls later, he was ready to crawl back into the depths of the pond in sheer frustration. The library's resources had been singularly unhelpful; while a dukedom, it appeared that the lands presided over by Lynxfinn Holdings were far enough away and quiet enough that there had been few noteworthy additions to the capitol's archives. Shifts in boundaries. Visits received by noteworthy personages.

Changes in names.

He was still somewhat puzzled by Aisner's choice to reclaim his maternal family's name and crest, but he supposed that what the duke wished to be addressed by was the prerogative of the duke. But what of a former duke's brother? Why would Master insist on being called what he was, and not by some other alias?

Kyn paused in the act of picking up a stack of books, leaning against the table and sighing. There was a pang, deep inside, with every question that arose about the man. It appalled him, how much he had accepted, simply because he had been told that things were the way they were. Yet it also appalled him that he could find so much doubt about the man that had raised and taught him. He mourned - he was sure he mourned - the place that Master used to hold...but when he reached up with trembling fingertips to trace the edge of his lashes, they were dry and his vision unblurred. He did not beg, did not submit, did not relinquish...and he did not cry useless and distracting tears. Lessons that he both cherished and abhorred.

Damn the heralds. Damn Sianni. The blind from birth did not miss a sense they had never had, but to give them a glimpse of what had been hidden from them? Would they feel the same regret that they were not one of the privileged from the beginning, bitter that that they no longer warranted special treatment? Would they feel a trace of jealousy at the ease with which the smallest child walked the earth, the unconscious surety of movement through a world that was perceived and interpreted in but a glance?

Kyn replaced the books and the maps, rearranged and organized the notes he had taken. Checking the time with a quick look out a window, he strode swiftly for the doors, massaging the back of his neck and rolling his shoulders absently against an ache that seemed to have settled in permanently one day ago. Nadia's predictions had proved painfully accurate when the first symptoms of withdrawal had revealed themselves entire days before he should have expected them, judging from past experience. A visit to the healer each morning now served to get him through the next twenty-four candlemarks without killing - either someone else or himself.

He resolutely kept his eyes focused straight ahead as he struck off the path that curved away from the library, snow crunching beneath his feet. The curve of a former pasture interjected itself between the east side of the library and one half of the collegium - most notably, one of the dining halls and where Brin was supposed to meet him with the maps. While Kyn had no way of judging how difficult it was to obtain the floorplans of a major holding, he had been prepared to give the boy a few more days and had been pleasantly surprised when Brin rushed out the news in a gasped torrent of words on his way to one class or another.

Glimpsing movement out on the pristine field, he peered out of the corners of his eyes without turning his head from his destination. He could just catch Sianni's general shape to his far right, a barely recognizable figure outlined only by the shadows cast upon her white coat against a white backdrop. She didn't move except to occasionally flick her tail or turn her head to watch him walk by, and he did nothing to acknowledge her presence in return. With the distance between them, it didn't take long for her to be hidden from sight by one of the gentle hillocks that dotted the pasture.

He could feel her confusion and hurt, no matter that both participants in the Companion bond were doing their damnedest to block it out. Her anger had died the same day he had accused her, but the silence remained when he continuously rebuffed her tentative advancements. Now, she roamed ever on the peripheries of his sight and his mind, a ghost in every meaning but the literal, haunting him like the negative image of the shadows in his dreams. Now, she not only did not try to coax him out any longer, but maintained her own wall of carefully constructed indifference. Now, they were both properly miserable, and he couldn't help wonder a bit at how wonderfully the situation had spiraled out to this point on the fulcrum of a few choice words. 

His head lifted at the hint of a prickle between his shoulderblades, as if tiny cat-feet were padding up and down his spine. It was an odd sensation, one he wasn't sure he exactly disliked yet, but at least was certain was intended to draw his attention elsewhere.

Two people were standing atop a high point on the pasture, one of the sharper wrinkles that occupied the terrain. Long before he drew into earshot, the sullen flame of Mennifei's hair gave away the identity of one, while an educated guess as to the other's considering the build pegged him as Stef. From the stiff, uncompromising lines of their stances, they had not reconciliated.

_Hasn't she already been enough trouble?_ Kyn groaned silently to his not-quite-functioning ForeSight.

Whichever god was currently on duty was having too much fun to notice one half-rhetorical prayer from a faux-trainee however, as Stef made one broad sweep of his arm and advanced on the young noblewoman, forcing her to retreat though her response was no less vehement. As his path took him near, Kyn could make out the edges of the conversation, his nerves knotting tighter and tighter with the palpable tension roiling between the two.

"...telling me you don't even know her now?!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Mennifei spat, pulling the edges of a scarf beneath her cloak higher against her chin. "I am not denying that we had a _passing_ acquaintance, but knowing about someone hardly makes us 'bosom buddies', to borrow one of your more provincial witticisms."

Stef laughed, a harsh, disbelieving bray. "A 'passing acquaintance'? You all but hid behind her skirts last term! Every other time I came to see you, you were conveniently occupied and 'Oh, Stefahn, why don't you be a dear and show Minuelle a good time instead?'" He pitched his voice high in a mockery of hers.

Rather than rising to the bait, Mennifei arched one brow sharply. "I felt sorry for the poor thing."

"So she was just a charity project?"

"Every girl needs a hobby," Mennifei purred with a languid wink, sliding a step back in preparation to turning away.

Kyn kept his eyes focused discreetly on the pair as long as he could without turning his head, and when he began to pass them, he reluctantly returned his gaze to the distant buildings ahead. Perhaps it had only been a residual worry from before, a sort of muscle-memory of the mind. Or, more likely yet, it was merely a carryover from the unsettling subject he had been dwelling upon just before noticing the two trainees...

"And is one of them spreading lies about me?"

"Unhand me you lout!"

Kyn halted abruptly, tilting his head but not quite brave enough to turn around yet. _Don't turn, don't acknowledge it...maybe it will go away without your intervention, it doesn't always have to be a life-or-death situation..._

"Or you'll what? Spread more rumors? You can't do much more damage than you've already done."

"It was your own fault! You might have appeared reluctant at first, but I know you slept with her. How do you know the child is not yours?"

"Anyone with eyes and a brain in their heads can see it's not mine! She's not even showing yet, and the last time I was with her was over half a year ago - "

"You're hurting me! Let go of me now, Stefahn Atronos, or - "

"Or you'll - or should I say, your _father_ will do _what_? Pa's ready to marry me to that sow and force me to acknowledge the brat just to save _face_ now, forgetting whether I have anything to say on the matter or not - !"

The unmistakable sound of a slap cracked through the thin winter's air, and Kyn forgot all reservations as he whirled around.

"You make this so easy," Stef growled.

Kyn barely had time to process the trainee's words before the young man - one hand still clamped firmly about Mennifer's wrist - gave her a sudden shove...and she abruptly disappeared from sight with a startled shriek.

_The hill...the edge of a sinkhole?_ the thought stumbled through Kyn's mind before he was sprinting toward the site. Stef was staring down where Mennifei had fallen, his face a mask of fleeting, uninterpretable emotions, one that quickly morphed into a feral smile when he heard Kyn running up. "Turning into a regular hero, aren't we? Saving that pathetic excuse for a boy, trying to save the girl too, now..."

Kyn barely registered the words as he pulled to a halt where Mennifei had been standing, breaths puffing out in frantic little clouds as he spotted her tumbling down the steep slope on the other side. He had only time enough to wonder if she was in any real danger when he glimpsed the fist flying toward his face out of the corners of his eyes.

Kyn threw himself back desperately, catching merely a glancing blow across the cheek. Enough to make his ears ring, but not enough to hamper his reflexes as he ducked beneath the next swing and rammed his shoulder into the trainee's midsection, aiming for the diaphragm and putting the entire thrust of his legs behind the maneuver.

Stefahn may mass half again as much as Kyn did, but even the bully was distracted from further retaliation when he was sent stumbling back with his breath wooshing out of him.

Kyn didn't waste time following up. If Stefahn had thought to keep him occupied, in all likelihood something else awaited Mennifei. The cause of the altercation had seemed relatively trivial to warrant such actions, and Stefahn's last, enigmatic statement to the young woman had been far too troubling. If Kyn didn't know any better, he might have suspected...

"This is your last chance at redemption, boy!"

Kyn froze just below the lip of the sinkhole, whirling to stare disbelievingly at the other trainee.

Still wheezing somewhat, Stefahn slowly straightened with his arms huddled around his middle. "Your master's calling," he sneered. "Better run on home like a good boy, or you can share her fate."

His last chance. How much did Stefahn know? How much had Master confided? Mouth dry, heart pounding, Kyn barely recognized the taste of betrayal as he was caught by the incomprehensible fact that Master had found a replacement of sorts - one that was now sent to complete what he had not been able to, one that would now be sent after _him_. If he disobeyed. If he let Mennifei die.

The crackle of ice, so familiar in his own mindscapes but now impinging on his physical ears, drew his attention back around and down.

Mennifei had come to rest in the shallow bowl of the depression, groaning and disoriented by the long tumble and perhaps something else as she struggled weakly to pull her limbs underneath her. With each shift, there was an ominous creak, and during one of her wide sweeps of arm Kyn spied a gleam of black ice beneath the thin covering of snow.

Reflex dictated his next actions before he could think through the consequences. _:Sianni!:_ he called, shattering the silence that had lain between them, plunging down the slope. _:I can't swim and I don't know if Mennifei can either!:_ This must be what Stefahn had been aiming for. Let the ice and the water take care of her...just a tragic accident...

He received no acknowledgement beyond an answering whinny from afar, but it was enough and he focused his attention on the young woman. "Mennifei, don't move!" he called out, finally reaching the bottom and finding out simply by having one foot nearly skid out from under him upon encountering the edge of snow-veiled ice. Staggering, he regained his balance at the cost of a pulled muscle, and looked down and then across to Mennifei, trying to gauge the distance between them. "I said don't move!" he snapped when the young woman stirred again, but either she was too scattered to register his warning or was ignoring him altogether, for she finally made it to hands and knees, throwing off the entangling folds of her cloak - just before one bracing hand plunged through the thin shield of frozen water. She was still staring dumbly at the water welling up around her arm when, with little more than a whisper of complaint, an entire section followed...swallowing her whole.

Kyn's breath caught as he waited...hoped... _Perhaps the sinkhole is not that deep...stand up, Mennifei, stand up!_

When only one hand appeared, slapping weakly at the water's surface for the nearest edge before disappearing again, he cursed and pushed himself across the surface as rapidly as possible, trying to compromise between speed and caution. When there came the same warning crackle that had preceded Mennifei's fall, he sprawled out on his belly, trying to inch ever farther out and thanking his makers for his relatively small frame and slight weight as compared to most males his age.

"Help..." Mennifei actually managed to win above the surface for a moment with a great thrashing about, the one word hopelessly garbled by water as she sank beneath the surface again, eyes wide and glazed and lips already pale and tinted blue from the cold.

"Don't you dare die on me, not after all you've put me through," Kyn hissed, throwing caution away as he pushed himself forward boldly and plunged both hands into the frigid water, tangling his fingers firmly in her clothing when they went almost instantly numb from the temperature. Feeling the edge of the ice collapsing beneath him, he struggled to scoot back even as he drew the noblewoman's head above the water. "Just a little longer," he gritted through clenched teeth, uncooperative hands working to free the clasp to her cloak so that the soaked weight wouldn't keep dragging her down. Sputtering and coughing, Mennifei seemed barely aware of his presence, eyes wandering blindly over him until they began to slip closed. "Stay awake!" he called to her, finally managing to tear the cloak loose and letting it sink into the dark waters. "Wake up!" he shouted, giving her a rough shake and heaving backwards at the same time, praying that the ice would hold, just a little longer...

But it didn't. A last, fitful groan, and an entire sheet collapsed, sending them both into the pool.

Kyn nearly sucked in a mouthful of water out of sheer surprise. Eyes snapping open, he stared up through a mad agitation of bubbles swirling up toward the surface, feeling as if he had gone abruptly deaf and nerveless as the water embraced them. It was in that moment, when he was insulated from sound and weight and sensation, watching the shifting chiaroscuro of broken ice and disturbed water dance above them, that he abruptly felt the oddest sensation of deja vu...

_"I feel dizzy."_

_There was no immediate reaction to his complaint. The soft murmur of alien syllables continued uninterrupted, and the candles lit at six corners continued burning undimmed. The thick fog of burning herbs and other unnameable scents made his vision waver in and out uncertainly, and he blinked hastily to keep from falling asleep or keeling over or doing anything but stand there unmoving as he had been ordered. It was an odd sensation that crawled beneath his skin and curled through his middle, making him feel both drowsy and edgy at the same time, an indescribable state that refused categorization and which made him want to scream just to try and relieve the knife's edge balance that he was poised on._

_"Never interrupt."_

_He raised his head to peer owlishly up at the man called Master, and in his inexperience started to reach out for the comfort he subconsciously sought for in the only adult he knew, though no memory could corroborate the instinct._

_"_Never_ interrupt," the instruction was repeated harshly, his hands slapped away._

_He bit his lip, trembling, and hastily wrapped his arms around himself, hands clenched guiltily in the shirt bunched at his sides. "I'm sorry..."_

_"Sorry, what?"_

_"Sorry...Master."_

_"Remember that."_

_A limped step closer, and a hand - the whole one - moved into his field of vision to tilt his head back. Though he had seen the macabre double-face before, like a ghastly jester wearing a mask composed half of those before and half of those after consignment to netherworldly fires and torments, he still could not suppress the shudder of seeing the juxtaposition borne upon a living human visage._

_"Remember that, and remember that should you ever see lines drawn upon the ground, should you ever call and I do not answer, should you ever smell what you smell now or anything resembling it...do not move. Do not interrupt."_

_"Y-yes, Master."_

_A faint nod of satisfaction, and the hand moved to rest on his shoulder for a moment before Master drew back, straightening laboriously and seemingly to tower over his much shorter form._

_ "And remember, that should you perform well in those respects, that I will attend to you as soon as I am able. Now. Breathe deeply, Kyn...relax and let it carry you...release your thoughts and concerns and fears, and merely...breathe..."_

_And he had allowed the smoke to enter his lungs and bear his body away._

The muffled thrum of a large body plunging into the waters made Kyn jerk, muscles lethargically spasming as he tried to turn and make out the cause of the sound. A ghostly shape had jumped into the pool collected at the bottom of the sinkhole, four slender legs beating rhythmically through the liquid and bearing their owner closer and closer.

_Breathe_. Abruptly snapped out of the momentary reverie, Kyn was suddenly reminded by the tickle in his lungs of their need for air, and glanced about himself quickly. The ground...the ground was not far. Just far enough to drown them, if they couldn't tread water, but close enough to reach and, perhaps, push off of to give them a brief respite? Wrapping an arm around Mennifei's middle, he wriggled a bit, consciously trying to sink them both just a little farther, stretching his toes...and as soon as he touched the heavy silt, he bent his legs, tightening his grip on the limp body in his arms before thrusting the both of them toward the surface.

He had almost miscalculated, between the sucking grip of the mud and his own sluggish responses. A hasty kick managed to just clear their heads of the water for one desperately needed moment, and he sucked in a few breaths, trying to stay up for a few breaths more with uncoordinated paddling between one arm and two legs, all rapidly losing strength. _Mennifei, wake up, breathe,_ he thought urgently when the body he clutched close did not immediately stir at the chill touch of air. Desperation overwhelmed him for one panicked heartbeat and he shook her sharply, eliciting at least one weak twitch before his inattention began to draw them both back down to the sinkhole's bottom, the air slipping beyond their reach once more.

_Again!_ he urged his rapidly deteriorating control. It was getting harder and harder to make himself move, to even scrape up the will for the effort. A coil of fear had begun to coalesce inside as he instinctively sought for the smallest murmur from his Gift, a hint of what he could do or what their fates would be, and was denied even the smallest of glimpses with a stomach-clenching lurch. _Again! I must...again, and again, until Sianni - _

A water-damped neigh heralded the Companion's arrival, and he felt almost dizzy with relief when she butted against him, careful to keep her hooves away from them as she swam near. Instinct more than will tangled his hand in her soaked mane, and gathering himself for one last herculean effort, Kyn braced his arm over her back and drew them both back above the surface.

Gasping, too cold to even shiver now, he could only cling grimly to Sianni's neck as she began to swim them all back to shore, concentrating the last of his still functioning mental processes on keeping Mennifei's head above the water.

It wasn't until Sianni had laid herself down at the shattered pool's edge, allowing him to roll the both of them onto her back so that she could carry them to the nearest building, that he was reminded of their quiescent bond, even as he reluctantly rejoiced at the distance the Companion was keeping. It was a small consolation that he now knew she would not involve herself unless he specifically called...of which he would make sure he would not.

It wasn't until they were nearly at the hall, with a bevy of concerned instructors and curious trainees pouring out to help them down with scrounged jackets and cloaks, that he remembered the cause of their current state and wondered where Stefahn had disappeared off to.

It wasn't until he had been set bundled before a fire with Mennifei tucked close beside him, finally warm enough to start shivering though only lucid enough to know he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes open for much longer, that he realized he had forsaken his last ties and loyalties to Master in favor of saving the noblewoman.

* * *

Yes, I'm afraid it's very short. =P In its original incarnation, I'd intended 2 more sections to be appended to it before I actually posted anything...but looking at my schedule for the next week or so (which includes 2 midterms, 2 homework assignments, and one project that was slated for 3 weeks' worth of work) I couldn't resist and decided to whip out what I could, just for my personal satisfaction. sighs I miss writing. And since I've been writing in fits and spurts lately, I'm too lazy to append an 'a' to this part and label the next part 'b'. Hope you all won't be too disappointed. =)

ola - I would scold you for doing something like that, if I didn't do the same thing on a regular basis. ^_~ I hope you did all right on your physics! Too bad teachers don't quite seem to understand how important it is to stay up to date on those must-read fics...

ambera - snickers Sorry to keep you waiting, but cliffhangers just happen to be exactly where I want to keep you. =P Hope you're not too mad at me...

Firefox - Ooooh, this club's definitely a keeper. =D *laughs* Maybe we can carpool sometime.

SCWLC - Woohoo! Aaaah...very good to know. While I don't know much about German, I think I can manage that much for at least most of the time when I go over his dialogue again.

*eep* Just remember, I'm only the messenger. ^_^ Just the go-between for the voices in my head, so it's not *really* my fault...really...

Megan - laughs Thank you so much for the wonderful praise. =) I'll try to keep up with your expectations.

M'cha - patpats I should probably make some comment about how evil geometry is, but as it so happens, that was one of the few math classes that I actually *did* like. =P But I will definitely agree with you on the general evilness of teachers and classes, though.


	17. The Words Between: part 14

Damn...I can't believe I'm already mapping out an opening scene for a sequel, when I'm only at about the halfway point of this fic.

Yes, you heard me right. I'm only about halfway done. Don't look at me so funny. =P I swear I have a plan for wrapping this all up. Eventually.

*sigh* I've always been a piece-by-piece writer, rather than this continuous straight-from-beginning-to-end type (which is why I still occasionally go back to fine-tune some stuff in earlier chapters - a casualty of writing-on-the-fly with no flight-plan logged). Anyway, I couldn't help myself and started that little teaser of an opening. Would anyone like to see it? =)

The Words Between - part 14

The guard this time was a woman. Tall, rangy, possessed of a sort of handsome beauty with sharp, hawkish features exposed by ash-blonde hair pulled back in a severe tail. She had a ready and generous smile though, belying her military stride and the sword and poniard at her belt. Her face was honest; it revealed her unease when Kyn had motioned Brin into the small conference room and then had stopped pointedly in the doorway, indicating wordlessly that they were to speak alone. Quickly masking her expression behind another smile though, she had mentioned something about finding something to wet her throat with, and then left them to themselves as gracefully as she could manage while looking back worriedly every two steps.

For once, Brin kept his mouth shut as they seated themselves at the lone table occupying the room's center. Unfortunately, Kyn wasn't sure he liked the look he was receiving instead that much better. It was an odd mixture of surprise, concern, and something - Kyn was certain - that skittered dangerously close to desperately suppressed amusement. He ran a hand through the spiky tufts his hair had dried into and scowled. "What?"

"N-nothing," the boy stammered, scooting back in his seat a little and self-consciously folding his hands in his lap and hunching his shoulders.

Already nettled by the day's events, Kyn's frown darkened as he watched the boy's actions, and on pure impulse said, "Sit straight."

_By the havens, sit straight, boy! You are a human being, Kyn, not a pillbug to roll yourself into a ball at the first hint of a shadow!_

"What?" Brin blinked.

Kyn shook himself and testily rearranged a corner of the borrowed cloak draped over his shoulders, banishing the ghost of Master's voice. It seemed that even as the man grew more and more unreachable, his memory taunted him more and more insistently. "Sit up straight," he repeated himself as patiently as possible.

Brin continued staring at him uncomprehendingly until Kyn's glower turned into a glare, and then the boy hurriedly obeyed, drawing his shoulders back and lifting his chin sharply.

"Don't stiffen up like a plank of drywood in the sun either. Take your hands out of your lap and rest them on the table or the armrests. You are sitting at a table conversing with equals, not attending your own execution." A pause, and Kyn added with a definite snap, "And don't gape like a dim-witted country rustic."

"But - but...I've never heard you say...so much..." was all Bryn managed to squeeze out before he pressed even farther back at Kyn's darkest look yet. "I'm sorry, Kyn! I just don't understand what - "

"I am correcting your posture," Kyn bit off, eyeing the visible portions of the boy critically as he warmed to the subject. "While it is adequate for most casual situations, it can still stand quite a bit of improvement."

Brin's mouth opened and closed twice in quick succession, and not once uttered a sound in between.

"Which reminds me. From now on, when in my presence, you will think _before_ you speak, instead of thinking _while_ you speak. The latter is sloppy and inefficient, and there are better uses of my time as well as your effort."

There was one more heartbeat of shocked stillness before the boy seemed to collapse in on himself, eyes falling quickly to his lap where his hands had fled once again. "I-I'm sorry, Kyn," he said, voice weak and trembling. "If...if you really hate me that much - "

Where in the known world did Brin get these notions of his? "What did I just say about thinking before you speak? Did I say anything about hating you?" Gods forbid, but the boy's eyes were glittering suspiciously. For one long moment, Kyn was confronted by the thought that the boy might burst into tears, and felt the first warning nip of what might be uncertainty but probably came closer to outright fear. _What am I supposed to do with a crying Brin?_

"But...but...you must! You're picking out all my faults...like Stef did..."

"I am _correcting_ them, not merely pointing them out!" Kyn snapped, a bit more sharply than even he had initially intended with the mention of the thrice-cursed bully, but at least it staved off the incipient bawling as the boy gave a start and focused on him. Taking a deep breath, he continued a little more sedately but with no less aggravation, uncomfortably aware of the boy's unstable mood, "If I thought you were hopeless, do you think I would waste my time trying to change things?"

One blue eye peeked up timidly through a fringe of flaxen hair.

Releasing a heavy breath, Kyn leaned forward, voice low and intense. "Brin, if you are going to be of any use at all - to anyone, including yourself - you will have to make decisions, and then stand firm behind them. You cannot remain ambivalent or continuously wait for confirmation." _I don't have the reassurances you are looking for, Brin. I don't even have any for myself. Best to look elsewhere for them._

The eye widened slightly in apprehension, the words of uncertainty all but displayed in it before they ever passed the boy's lips. "I don't...but, but what if I make the wrong..."

"You can do _no_ wrong," Kyn hissed, trying to impress the sentiment on Brin through sheer force of will, "so long as you accept all the consequences for your actions!"

The boy seemed completely frozen. Kyn doubted he even drew breath; certainly he did not bother rewetting his eyes though fully five counts had passed.

Sighing, Kyn rubbed his forehead with a grimace and tried urging, "Don't just react, _think _on it!" 

When the silence stretched, he was uncertain whether to take it as a good sign or a bad one. Was Brin actually doing what he had asked, or was the boy still half-catatonic? Preparing himself for the worst, he opened his eyes again and looked across the table - and felt his expression grow slack in confusion as he caught a most unusual expression on the trainee's face, just before it was replaced by an almost perfect mirror of Kyn's motions. Thoughtfulness - actual thoughtfulness - had graced the soft cherubic features, giving them an unexpectedly mature cast before it had morphed into a grimace and then a rub of the hand over the brow and then on down the face. Whether he had consciously emulated Kyn or not, for a brief moment, he seemed very much Kyn's peer.

And as if the gesture wiped away the doubts and insecurities with it, Brin straightened with a still somewhat self-conscious, but nevertheless much calmer air to meet Kyn's gaze steadily. "That...makes sense. In a weird and ruthless sort of way," he said with only the slightest wince in the middle.

Kyn tilted his head, reexamining the flaxen-haired youth from a different perspective. With a little more confidence, a little less puppy enthusiasm, and just a bit more growing up, Brin could...could...

He hastily broke off the train of thought with a wince, closing his eyes, the by-now familiar frustration when dealing with his recalcitrant Gift welling up like bile in the back of his throat. _How can others stand this blindness?_

"Kyn...are you all right? Would you like me to call the healer back?"

Releasing a slow breath, Kyn shook his head. "No. Just an unpleasant thought. What have you heard about Stef lately?"

Brin started a bit at the mention of the bully, eyeing Kyn dubiously before he shrugged and said carefully, almost visibly picking select words from his usual store, "That he's in a lot of trouble with his father. Why?"

Kyn nodded approvingly at the effort. "Specifically, where it might involve Mennifei."

The trainee pursed his lips in thought, frowning down at the table momentarily. "Well...there's nothing that involves her directly. Though most of the talk seems to have originated from her, or those she is associated with the most often. Really, I don't know how she would have caught wind of it first of all people considering that Minuelle and she haven't been on speaking terms for nearly half a year now, and even Ellanen says that - "

Kyn was just about to rap a knuckle against the tabletop to remind him when Brin managed to halt the habitual flood of words himself, cheeks tinted pink as he alternately squirmed in embarrassment and tried to maintain the dignified air that Kyn had insisted on. It was enough to almost make Kyn himself shift in his seat in discomfort before the boy settled again. "What, exactly, does the 'talk' revolve about?" he tried to steer them back on course.

"There's...well, there's this girl, Minuelle, who used to trail after Fei all the time. Fei didn't seem to really notice her; Minuelle's family are craftsmen, usually beneath her notice. But at one point...I don't know, Fei seemed to lose interest in Stef for a while. It wasn't very noticeable...just enough to cause some raised eyebrows. That's when she got a lot more friendly with Minuelle, and helped Minuelle to be more friendly with Stef if you know what I mean. Then, after a few months, everything went back to the way it was, except Minuelle wasn't following Fei anymore."

"Why?"

A short shrug. "I don't know. This was all before I became a trainee. I've only managed to hear that much in relation to what's going on now."

"And what is going on now?"

"Minuelle is pregnant. And the most oft told story - well, actually, I think the _only_ story in all its variations has Stef as being the father."

_ A 'passing acquaintance'? You all but hid behind her skirts last term! Every other time I came to see you, you were conveniently occupied and 'Oh, Stefahn, why don't you be a dear and show Minuelle a good time instead?'_

Every girl needs a hobby.

And is one of them spreading lies about me?

It was your own fault! You might have appeared reluctant at first, but I know you slept with her. How do you know the child is not yours?

Pa's ready to marry me to that sow and force me to acknowledge the brat just to save face now, forgetting whether I have anything to say on the matter or not - !

Kyn brooded, interrupting his thoughts only once to absently remind Brin not to fidget. "Do _you_ think Stef is the father?"

Cornflower blue eyes strayed away before returning with a hesitant look. "I...would rather not speculate."

He arched one brow as he watched the boy's expression intently through half-lidded eyes. "Why is that?"

"I don't know enough to make a judgment like that."

"Yet you've heard everyone else's opinion on the matter."

"That's all they are, opinions. Nobody really knows anything."

"And Minuelle? Has she not said anything on her own behalf yet?"

"Not that I know of. There's been a lot of speculation, but whenever someone presses the issue, it always begins with, 'I heard from' or 'so-and-so said', and none of the names is 'Minuelle'. The girl herself has already left, taken home by her parents."

Kyn nodded, well satisfied by the responses, particularly where the boy's imagination - or rather, the careful exclusion of it from answers that might have 'benefited' from embellishment - was concerned. "Thank you, Brin. What about Stef's reaction? How angry is he likely to be about this accusation?"

"Stef?" Brin's expression twisted in distaste. "I dunno. His - "

"Do not mumble."

"I don't know," the trainee repeated smoothly, as if there had been no interruption at all. Kyn's mouth twitched as he silently applauded; the boy was adapting far more quickly than he had thought he would. "His father would throw a fit for sure, though. Stef's family isn't titled by inheritance. His father is still insecure enough to want everything to be perfect. To have a scandal like this just a handful of years after he bought them respectability? No matter if the child is really Stef's or not, the damage to the family's reputation done by gossipmongers alone could be enough in his eye to disown Stef or force Stef to marry the girl and acknowledge the babe." Shaking his head, Brin added dryly, "Which is rather ironic, when you consider the stereotype of every noble family possessing some sort of skeleton-populated closet. The Atronos might actually fit into that section of society better if they had a scandal or two."

_Pa's ready to marry me to that sow and force me to acknowledge the brat just to save face now, forgetting whether I have anything to say on the matter or not - !_

"What about Mennifei herself? Why is she involved?"

"Is she?" Brin asked with a puzzled look.

"Why does all the talk originate from her?"

"I don't know. They just seem to." A long, considering look, and he asked, "What do you suspect, Kyn?"

He fell silent, letting the question pass unanswered, and the boy was perceptive enough not to press when it became clear that it would be ignored. "What do you know of Mennifei's life? Her mother, and the influence her parents have or have had on her?"

Brin shifted in his seat at the abrupt change in subject, and could only shrug again after he had collected his thoughts. "I don't know anything about her mother. I know very little of her life and relationships outside of the collegium."

Mennifei was very good at hiding things. Not just behind the spoiled noble brat that she projected to all and sundry, but behind her sullen silences and her lack of focus and her selective indifference. What she didn't want to hear - or what she didn't want others to notice - she distracted with a facility and unconscious grace that only came with years upon years of practice. What she couldn't distract, she outright ignored, pretending a wandering attention that couldn't be caught. It had made Kyn wonder, how much of her more infuriating moods was pure acting.

She had stared at him, long and hard, when the healer summoned by one of the instructors that had helped them in finally managed to rouse her. The young noblewoman barely moved from where she had been placed near the hearth, and then only to keep Kyn within sight when the healer accidentally interposed himself between them. She had responded to the healer's questions in a monotone, barely glanced at him when he had tried to engage her in conversation, and always, always she had kept the near-unblinking focus of her regard on her rescuer.

Kyn had not been able to interpret her look then, and even now with his head clear and his body finally without any outstanding complaints, he could only infer that she had been highly unsettled by the turn of events. He might have been tempted to just put it down as shock - except that her gaze had been too clear, too pointed. She knew what she was seeing, very clearly, and knew what his role had been despite her earlier panic and confusion.

Unfortunately, any questions he might have plied her with were forestalled by the duke's abrupt entrance. It was almost - almost - worth the lost opportunity to see the man's face set into lines of bitter annoyance. Apparently this - or perhaps something else entirely - had been contrary to whatever Se'Fannouel had planned, and Kyn couldn't resist the small, smirking smile when the man's glance had happened his way. Terse words had been exchanged with the healer, a few sharp questions applied to the young woman herself, and Mennifei pretended distraction due to the experience and applied her whiniest tone to the demand for home. Home, back in Lynxfinn Holdings.

Kyn knew she pretended, for her eyes were far too keen when they sought out his, and the duke knew she pretended when he followed the line of her sight. Whatever the man thought of the matter however, remained solely in his knowledge as he acquiesced rapidly to her request with surprising grace, citing two near-death experiences as more than enough motivation for an early return for the year's end holidays. Then he had turned a faux-friendly smile upon Kyn, and offered a ride to his lands in his carriage, three days earlier than had been intended.

Kyn remembered offering vague excuses, which the duke had accepted with few protests, and then the two had slipped back out of the door, Mennifei's slender form hidden completely away by two layers of cloaks and her father's figure, his hands placed possessively on her shoulders. For a panicked moment, Kyn had wondered if he had made the wrong decision, if the sacrifice he had Seen might occur in the three days that he was not there, and with no guidance from his Sight, had very nearly run out after them. But then Brin had stumbled in breathlessly, glancing quickly between the departing couple and Kyn with questions looming large in his eyes, and he had realized the foolishness of darting off unprepared, especially when sacrifices were the most effective only at appointed times. He had learned that and more in oblique observation of Master, and even without his Gift he knew, deep inside, that the time had not yet come.

And the duke would not risk the sacrifice of his only offspring to anything but the most ideal circumstances.

"Kyn?"

"Where are the maps?" he asked at the reminder.

"Uhm, I had a friend take them back to my room for me when I found out what happened. I didn't want to lug them all the way across the field with me. Kyn, what's going on? Aren't you going to tell me what all this has to do with each other?"

"No," he said flatly, pushing back his chair and rising. He grimaced at the stiff, scratchy feel of his dried-out clothes, and debated briefly on a bath and a change before taking care of other matters. A breath's longer thought, and then he decided that he didn't want to risk any other 'interruptions' before he was able to at least scan the floorplans. "Let's go."

"Wait!" Brin started up as well, chair legs scraping across the wood-paneled floor, his expression unexpectedly belligerent. "Hey! Kyn, I have a right to know! What are you trying to protect me from?"

Kyn turned sharply, already halfway to the door, absently catching at the edges of the cloak when it was about to slip off. "Don't make me laugh. I am _ not_ trying to protect you."

There was a flash of hurt, but unusually emboldened, Brin pushed on. "Then who?"

"I'm not protecting any - " Kyn halted mid-word, his frown deepening.

Just who _was_ he trying to protect? Sianni? Brin? Master? Himself? If no one, then why not? What had he to lose, except wasted time trying to find things on his own when Brin was far better connected to certain resources than he was?

Brin smiled triumphantly, folding his arms across his chest. Kyn might have been tempted to wipe the smug expression off the boy's face by words or deed, if it hadn't looked so ridiculous on such a child-like countenance.

"Follow closely," he finally conceded, reminding himself that it was a good idea in a silent litany of all of the boy's newfound talents. "And if I hear one word of what I tell you from anyone's lips but for your own, and even then if we are not the only ones within earshot, one night you will fall asleep and never wake to the morning."

The boy seemed far too bloody cheerful for someone who had just received a death threat.

* * *

UrsaWolf - Hey sky! =) You caught a glimpse here, but I promise there'll be more later when they meet again. ^_~ Hmmm... whips out her doodle book Now you've got me thinking about club card designs... eyes you suspiciously You're all conspiring to steal all of my time, aren't you?

Megan - Just makes you want to take a ruler to the boy's backside, doesn't it? ^_~ Oooooooh, thank you! Makes me all glowy inside. =D Continue to spread the gospel!

M'cha - There! I spurted! Happy?! (Ok, that sounds...really bad. Let's end this thread right there. *snip snip* =P) *snickers* Don't worry. I usually can't keep things like that straight either, which is why I usually do one of two things: I write down notes (if I'm the one writing the fic) or I ignore who's related to whom and hope that it won't become too important (if I'm reading something else). =P Horrible way of doing things, but history *was*, after all, my one consistent bad grade throughout high school...

SCWLC - Thank you for the wonderful encouragement. I did manage to pelt out another section, despite the fact that I'm slated to open tomorrow (today) in about...4 hours or so. =P Sometimes, when the conspiracies demand to be written, you can't do anything but say yea...

ola - laughs Oh, no worries, I will definitely continue to give you things to read. Though...I *will* admit that they might come faster than they ordinarily would with the encouragement of reviews. ^_~

Soulshadow - Thank you! laughs At least it's safer than most other things out on the market. I think... o.O*

Firefox - snickers I'll try to see if he can schedule in a visit. He's a busy guy right now, after all. =P


	18. The Words Between: part 15

The Words Between - part 15

"What is your name?"

"Bria." Again that smile, which Kyn might have been tempted to term 'infectious' if he had been the type of person to be infected by such smiles. "For Brianna. A pleasure to meet you."

"Brianna," Kyn acknowledged flatly as he turned away from her and started walking down the hall, Brin following close behind. "Thank you for your diligence, but your presence is not required in such proximity."

The woman's pale blue eyes widened in mild astonishment, her mouth dropping open as she watched them walking away from the conference room. "Child, that wasn't a dismissal I just heard, was it?"

"Take it as you will," Kyn responded tersely. He had to memorize the floor plans before they left for the duke's lands...did he dare push for a day's earlier leaving? How far off balance would that throw the duke's plans, appearing on his doorstep early? Perhaps not far at all, if he had been prepared to take Kyn with him right then and there...unless he knew Kyn would refuse and had been merely bluffing.

"He didn't really mean it that way, ma'am..."

"Don't make excuses for me, Brin."

"Yeah, he can bloody well make them for himself," Brianna muttered. "Hey, you're not brushing me off that easy - "

"And why should I need to brush you off at all?" Kyn abruptly rounded on the woman, surprising her into a sharp step back to keep from running into him when she had lengthened her already long-legged strides to catch up. "I would not presume to second guess Alberich's instructions, but from previous behaviors, it would seem that he had enough faith in my abilities to place guards at a distance."

The woman frowned, not so affable now as she rested one hand on her hip and the other on the pommel of her sword to balance it. "And just how do you see that? I'd think the last incident would've taught you that someone needs to be close."

"Are you proposing to guard my every step, then? Shall I let you hold the knife to cut my meat during mealtimes?" he asked scathingly.

Brianna's lips tightened, frown deepening. "Do not mock me. If your Companion had not reached you in time - "

"But she _did_ reach me in time, and that should indicate the distance that anyone needs - "

"And just why was your Companion such a fair ways off? I do not recall 'discretion' calling for a full gallop to take that long to - "

"Whatever I cannot delay for the time it takes for help to reach me would most likely not be averted no matter how close that help - !"

"Horse dung, to put it politely! If she had been within speaking distance of you as she should've been, neither of you would've even taken a dunking, much less - "

"I will not argue with you!"

Brin's wide, unblinking eyes strayed uncertainly from one to the other.

Kyn drew himself up to his full height - unhindered by the fact that he was a full hand's width shorter than Bria - and stated with cold suspicion, "Alberich had not given you specific orders for your shadowing, had he? He has not even appeared yet to question me on the incident."

"Alberich has better things to do than to follow your misadventures all day," Brianna said crossly, folding her arms across her chest and adopting the same, confrontational stance. "And he left standing orders as to what actions should be taken if things 'escalate'. I would say that things have escalated."

Kyn drew his hand sharply through the air, a curt gesture of dismissal. "Which only means that he is no longer in the city, or something else has come up. Keep your secrets if you want, I don't care where he is. You, however, are another matter. Matters have not 'escalated'. It was merely an accident. Mennifei slipped, and I happened to be near enough to help her." Out of the corners of his eyes, he caught Brin shifting his weight abruptly with an indrawn breath, looking as if he might interrupt. Without breaking his locked glare with the woman, he made a small, negating gesture with his near hand, letting the folds of the overlarge cloak shield it from the woman's notice. Whether the boy actually noticed it and interpreted it correctly or not, Brin seemed to have enough wits to subside without interjecting. Kyn made a mental note to begin working out a system of signals whereby he could prompt the boy without others either observing or understanding them. "I have managed to survive this long without needing someone to hold my hand. I will not allow myself to become so useless that I need a keeper shadowing my every step!"

Brianna's brows rose crookedly as she folded her arms. "And just what do you think you've survived previously?"

Kyn's eyes narrowed, heartbeat quickening at the condescension before he managed to throttle his instinctive response, to inform her just who she thought she was doing a favor babysitting. Allowing one corner of his mouth to curl upwards in a smirk, he said smoothly, "If Alberich had not seen fit to inform you, I think I shall forbear as well." A tiny flame of satisfaction helped sooth his frustration as the woman's expression immediately fell into a thunderous frown, and he turned to quickly stride for the door, content enough with his small victory to concede her the position at his heels for the moment.

As he left the building along with a puff of warm air, he gave a single, convulsive shudder before quickly wrapping the edges of the cloak tighter about himself. Casting a glance aside, his eyes managed to meet Brin's during the process. The boy's expression lightened as he caught Kyn's attention, shoulders rising as he took a deep breath - and then falling again as he released the air in a patently disappointed sigh, a twitch that he wasn't quite able to suppress making it obvious that he was all too aware of Brianna's disapproving presence well within earshot.

Suppressing sudden amusement, Kyn said, "Later." Looking somewhat mollified by the promise that they would continue their conversation when they were once again alone, Brin made a visible effort to reassert his more cheerful mien.

Though Brin was ostentatiously leading the way, Kyn began to lengthen his strides, subtly pushing the boy with his proximity until the tow-headed trainee was interspersing his steps with awkward half-skips to keep up the pace. Kyn knew the way enough to be anxious for a building with heating, the winter air reminding him of the frozen waters until his bones ached in sympathetic memory despite the thick cloak. He knew just how far they were from the boy's dorm, and he wasn't willing to be kept out longer than he absolutely needed to be. When they turned a corner and the front door finally came within sight, he dispensed with pretenses and passed Brin altogether, stamping his feet on his way up the two steps leading to it in afterthought to shake of what snow had clung to his still-damp shoes.

It was like walking into a wall. Perhaps he was just a little more sensitive to the cold than he would have liked to fool himself into thinking, or the dorms had been running fires all day, but the abrupt heat was nearly suffocating for the second or two it took for him to acclimate - and while the rest of him tingled pleasantly with renewed circulation, his head seemed to bundle the extra warmth into a tight little package that throbbed sullenly behind his eyes. Sighing, he grimaced and rubbed his brow, soon moving his hand to massage the back of his neck as he loosened his hold on the cloak, trying to relieve the pressure.

Resolutely pushing the discomfort aside, he looked around, orienting himself with what he knew of the building's exterior. He had never been in the dorm itself, merely observed its facade as a matter of principle while familiarizing himself with the campus' composition and layout. He knew from occasional glimpses of the boy at the windows that Brin was living on the second floor. For rooms that housed three - an arrangement that Brin currently claimed - there were two windows, which meant that the trainee's room was the fourth one from the east side of the building if Kyn had counted the windows correctly, accommodating for the extra one in the stairwell.

"Brin! Where did you go? We were looking all over for you after lunch." The voice echoed down the stairs along with a rapid series of shuffling steps that sounded in danger of spilling their owner tumbling to the ground floor. As it was, the boy who appeared not long after very nearly did land sprawling, if it hadn't been for a hasty catch at the banisters. Looking a little older than Brin, certainly taller and a little leaner, he sported a head full of black curls, slanted gray eyes, and the gray uniform of a Heraldic trainee.

"Oh, Terrance! Sorry 'bout that, something came up rather urgently...did Ray drop off those map carriers of mine?"

"Yeah, he did, and helped himself to a double handful of those dried fruits your mother sent some days ago in payment."

"What!"

Kyn began to walk toward the stairs, recognizing the new arrival as one of Brin's roommates and dismissing him as the two boys fell into a mutual airing of grievances with much hand-waving and groans. Terrance's eyes followed him curiously as Kyn slipped past, the gray gaze widening slightly as they noted the armed woman following two short strides behind though the rapid-fire exchange of words did not slow a whit.

The stairs, composed of closely fitted and polished wood slats, curved back on itself halfway up before opening out into a central hallway running the length of the second floor. Eyeing the near walls, Kyn slid a hand across them as he passed, noting one particular spot that seemed warmer than the rest as he let the cloak slip from his shoulders and draped it over an arm. Perhaps a branching series of flumes helped carry heat from some central fire or boiler through the rest of the building through the walls; an interesting engineering trick if they managed it without choking the place up with smoke or burning it down. When his hand dipped into the depression of the first doorway, he regathered his thoughts and began counting out the ones leading to what he estimated to be Brin's room.

"Hey, where's your friend going? He doesn't room here, does he?" Terrance's voice asked, tinnily hollow floating up the stairwell, interrupting the smooth rhythm that had been established by their conversation.

"Oh, no, he's just going up to our room to get the - "

"What? _Our_ room?! Hey, you, wait!"

The fourth door on the south side of the building. Kyn cast a glance back as he laid a hand on the door handle, depressing the latch. He saw Brianna turn also with a quizzical look as the unmistakable sound of Terrance's rapid footsteps pounded back up the stairs.

"Ter! What's going - "

"Nat's practicing again - hey, don't open the door!"

Kyn opened the door. Not out of any true perversity...the warning had simply come too late. Still, it came soon enough that Kyn automatically tensed, attention sharpening instinctively for an ambush as the door swung wide, so that when he noted the badly-tossed knife tumbling toward his head, he had just enough preparation to reach out and pluck it from the air rather than merely dodging and leave himself still on the defensive. A practiced shift brought the weighted weapon to bear in an eye blink, ready to be hurled back at its original thrower.

The third roommate, hazel eyes wide and innocuously clad in sleep clothes, straight brown hair in a mild disarray around his shoulders, gaped at Kyn while still caught in a follow-through after the throw.

Taking a quick look around to check that there were no other threats pending, Kyn arched one brow and asked dryly, "I hope you don't mind that I keep a hold of this for now."

The boy blinked, let his arm drop, and breathed, "Whoa. How'd you do that?"

Kyn didn't bother replying, lowering his arm and tucking the flat of the knife's blade against his inside wrist, taking two steps in and a second look around, this time with the intent of locating the tubes that would house the maps. Behind him, he could hear Terrance and Brin finally catching up to lean in the doorway, panting after the panicked run up the stairs and down the hall.

"Are you all right?!"

"Nathannel, Dhorin told you to stop practicing that in the dorms weeks ago! Expressly because something like _this_ might happen!"

"Where did you learn that?" Brianna asked in soft, suspicious tones, her words carrying despite the growing argument that the others were becoming embroiled in.

"From a thief," Kyn answered obliquely, picking his way fastidiously through scattered piles of clothing - and what looked to be the remains of a failed experiment with a miniature catapult - toward the far corner. There were some likely looking tubes propped there, slender wooden shafts capped by wax-sealed tops. "Brin," he called over his shoulder as he picked up one of the tubes, rapping it lightly to make sure that it was hollow. "Are these the ones?" The blond-haired trainee put his end of the argument on hold for the split second it took to return a confirmation before he was once again berating his unrepentant-looking roommate. Nathannel, in fact, seemed to pay only enough attention to the heated discussion to keep up pretenses, devoting the majority of his energy to watching Kyn with a sort of glazed-eyed look. Even Brianna's quiet, imposing presence drew less scrutiny.

Kyn was uncomfortably reminded of his first meeting with Brin. The boy had sported a similar expression then, still covered with mud and with them both sopping wet, and just look at the impossible entanglements that it had led up to. Resolutely ignoring Nathannel's awed regard, Kyn gathered up the two map carriers, hitching the string tied across their ends over his shoulder, awkwardly shaking out the cloak in preparation to wrapping it around himself again with one hand still occupied by the knife. 

He was about to turn and leave when he paused and considered the room anew, absently rubbing at the back of his neck in an attempt to relieve the ever-present ache and remembering that he was not at all eager to be returning outside. As an excuse, he examined the place in more detail, and decided that it felt...cluttered. Not that Kyn had not seen his fair share of lavishly decorated rooms and halls, but here, the majority of knickknacks had less obvious purposes than the purely aesthetic. 

He himself had owned nothing he had bothered calling his own. He remembered a few items that he had tried to keep tucked away when he was young, for reasons he could not even remember anymore. They had all disappeared though, perhaps confiscated by Master, or simply forgotten, not important enough to recollect but in the vaguest of manners, like acorns buried by an absent-minded squirrel. Later on, he had lost even the urge to keep anything with the thought of claiming it as his exclusively. There seemed little purpose to it, with everything that did not harm him or the course of his instruction readily available for his perusal. He was eventually allowed free reign even within Master's private chambers, an offer that he had taken advantage of only once. He had only made the most cursory of inspections before hurriedly closing the door behind him, followed by the soft, rasping chuckles of Master's amusement.

Brin's cap with its pheasant feathers, over which so much furor had been produced, adorned one post of the headboard to what Kyn assumed to be the boy's assigned bed. Near it were quills for writing, charcoal sticks, the wooden handle to some unknown tool, all jutting out of a lopsided clay mug on a desk. Papers and books were piled relatively neatly in the other corners, a rough wooden carving that resembled a weird amalgamation of a rabbit and a turtle weighing down the stack nearest the window. Next to it was a picture frame, delicately carved and even containing a piece of protective glass, laid flat so that it became an opaque mirror with the angle of the light. Only half-listening to Nathannel's grousing and the other two boys' admonishments, Kyn wandered over to Brin's desk and tilted his head, trying to see the image the frame contained.

It was a pen and ink sketch, a miniature family portrait, done either professionally or by a very talented amateur. Brin was immediately recognizable, though he looked a few years younger in the picture. Behind and beside him was a man and a woman. Below, there was the soft, round face of a very young girl, little more than a baby with fine, pale hair pulled up into a ridiculous top-knot tied off with a bow. It was hard for Kyn to judge her age; he had had little contact with children. _A sister? He had never mentioned a sister. _ Or perhaps Bryn had, but only by name, and Kyn had not thought to ask after the relationship. It was an odd sensation, seeing their smiling faces arrayed neatly on the sun-yellowed paper, knowing that there were invisible ties binding them all together into a unit known as 'family'. 

Kyn narrowed his eyes fractionally before carefully reaching out and turning the picture over, face down.

When he looked up, it was to see the shadows creeping farther and farther across the snow outside the window as the day waned. Feeling unexpectedly pensive, he took a step closer, nearly leaning his forehead against the chill glass to peer outside. A building, presumably another dorm, faced him across a wide alley, a lane of feet-churned and dirty snow cutting through its center. There was no one in view but for two trainees in blue uniforms far to the left, barely within his sight...

Kyn's breath caught, disbelieving for a moment. _Surely the fates would not work so conveniently, would they?_ Nevertheless, when he pushed the window open, ignoring the sounds of confusion and protest from behind when the cold air from outside leaked in, he could see by his better vantage point leaning out that it was indeed Stefahn that stood near the alley's end. The trainee's broad back was turned toward Kyn, but he easily recognized the boy's stance and gestures as some grandiose story or plan was outlined. Stefahn's companion was a pudgy-looking boy, with short, stiff brown hair and thick eyebrows. The temperature had nipped the nose and rounded cheeks pink, and though he shuffled his weight impatiently from foot to foot, there was a small frown wrinkling his countenance and the trainee did not attempt to interrupt Stefahn.

"What are you doing?" Brin asked, moving up behind Kyn and trying vainly to peer over his shoulder without hovering.

"Nothing. Yet," Kyn said, trying to think through the haze of unfamiliar emotions and what might eventually become a full-blown headache. Stefahn needed to be dealt with, if nothing else, because Kyn would not be able to rest easy with an unknown variable running around loose. He had very little faith in the trainee's cognitive skills - a fact that was even more daunting than the thought of an experienced opponent, who would understand when to be wary - and there was the added factor of Stefahn's implied ties to Master. It was highly unlikely that the trainee had met Master face-to-face...but how to be sure just how much of a threat Stefahn might pose? And how to neutralize it? _The trainee obviously understands brute strength and fear..._

Letting the cloak and maps slide to the floor, Kyn adjusted his grip on the weapon still within one hand and reached out blindly with the other, extending it palm up. "Your knife," he asked of the woman he could sense standing near.

The reply came hesitantly, rife with suspicion. "What do you want with it?"

"Your knife," he demanded again, this time more insistently as the portly boy down the alley moved away a step. The conversation was nearing its conclusion.

"Haven't you already confiscated one? I do not think - "

Kyn snapped his head around. _"Your knife!"_

It was with some satisfaction that he noted the others jumping slightly out of the corners of his eyes, but what proved even more gratifying was the prompt slap of a hilt into the palm of his outstretched hand. Nodding to the stony-faced woman in thanks as if the order had been couched in the most genteel of requests, he slipped the poniard through his belt, eyed the distance to the ground, and slipped over the window's sill.

He hung by one hand to shorten the distance before kicking away from the wall, landing with a deep knee bend to absorb the shock, elbows brushing the taller drifts that had gathered at the edges of the alley. A sharp spike of pain flashed briefly behind his eyes, the sudden jolt of adrenaline in preparation for the coming confrontation briefly antagonizing the steady throb into a genuine headache before subsiding again. It, as well as the icy cold, could be ignored for now if he maintained his focus on the immediate goal. Glancing up at the gasps and exclamations that followed him, he made a curt gesture for silence before he palmed the poniard and began stalking toward Stefahn.

The snow in the center was just thick enough to muffle whatever shift of gravel might occur beneath, and thin enough that it did not pack with audible noise as fresh-fallen drifts might. His shadow fell behind him. There was nothing that should alert Stefahn to his presence beyond his companion, and for whatever reason, the other trainee did not catch Kyn's movement or did not bother glancing toward him until he had begun the short sprint that would lead into his final approach. Perfect.

When the black eyes widened and the mouth rounded into an 'o' of surprise to reveal the folds of a double chin, Stefahn interrupted himself with a cross-sounding query, turning with a scowl affixed to his face. The bully's eyes too, grew large at the sight of Kyn abruptly crouching low a mere body's length away, using the momentum of his run to launch himself into a spring straight for the trainee. Stefahn had little more time than to draw breath before Kyn crashed into him, knees-first to his torso.

The older boy released a grunt, half-stunned as Kyn sent them skidding through the near-slush, eyes staring blankly at the sky for a moment before he rolled them down to focus on his assailant. A spark flared and Stefahn stubbornly pulled his arms close in preparation to throwing Kyn off despite the wheeze that was all he could manage in the place of breaths at the moment.

Kyn calmly readjusted his weight on the trainee's chest, leaned over, and slammed the knives down into the snow and dirt on either side of Stefahn's head. The pale blue orbs grew large until they were rimmed with white, turning slowly to stare first at one gleaming length of honed steel and then the other, not more than a finger's width away.

Hands still braced on the hilts, Kyn bent low and placed his lips next to the boy's ear. "I would like very much to have words with you."

* * *

Yes, short, but I couldn't keep it from you for much longer. =) This'll also help me keep the story going, so I think I might stay with this length for a while.

me ^.^ - Done! =P

drunkenfairy - Eeeeewww... patpats I sympathize completely.

Megan - lol So, did it work? =P

SCWLC - Thank you! And I'm trying, though the rest of the world's not cooperating. ^_~ (Don't worry, my love for creature comforts and pure laziness will insure my survival till the next Apocalypse, despite all my griping.) And in reply to the review you left on The Words Unsaid: Hee! Just as a note, though the prologue did reveal a great many things, my plans for The Words Between will not be covering how things turned out the way they do in the sequel. That will be the job of The Words Unsaid, so though there may seem to be a lot of 'spoilers', they're also not truly spoilers in the literal sense since their development will remain mostly in the body of the sequel. I hope that made sense? o.O* 

ola - snickers I can just imagine the reviews degenerating into single-line entries composed of only the words, "Yadda yadda yadda..." And in reply to the review you left on The Words Unsaid, I'm not sure what you're referring to concerning the lady in the forest. As for all of your other questions...considering that the answers will be even more spoilers, are you *sure* you wanna know? ^_~

DarklingImp - Thank you for letting me know! =) I'm glad you're finding it enjoyable, and hope you'll continue to take the occasional break from evil impish things to let me know. ^_~

M'cha Araem - I must join you in the guilt-fest, as I brought home many textbooks with me for Thanksgiving and have not opened up a single one of them yet. laughs and shakes her head I think you need to start avoiding composing reviews directly on fanfiction's site. I might have suggested you stop composing reviews altogether for the sake of relieving your burden, but quite obviously, that's out of the question. ^_^ As for the complex relationships - well, even I have to maintain a chart for my own reference, so don't feel too badly. And in response to the review you left on The Words Unsaid, yes, generally you're supposed to finish something before starting a sequel. ;) Unfortunately, I have never been a very linear type of person, and I must say this type of writing - being forced to compose a story directly from beginning to end - has really been quite a daunting task for me. My habit has always been to write stuff all over the timeline, then the connecting pieces, and then to fine-tune/tweak the areas that have continuity probs. But, thus far at least, I've managed to behave myself beyond that one momentary weakness. =P


	19. The Words Between: part 16

The Words Between - part 16

Stefahn coughed raggedly, struggling to pull in air against Kyn's weight, and rasped, "Get offa me...'fore I tear your head off!"

Kyn had to give the trainee credit for bravado. He had seen the naked fear in the blue gaze as the knives came down, but it was all but nonexistent now beneath a thick layer of contempt and fury. "Do you think you're really in a position to make threats like that?" he asked quietly, shifting his knees and planting them carefully in the hollows of the shoulders just below the collarbone, easing his weight onto them.

Stefahn gasped, squirming as nerves were mercilessly pinched. "Bastard, I'll - !"

"Such language, from a supposed highborn," Kyn chided, tugging one of the knives out and shaking off what gravel and snow had clung to it. A person lying prone did not have enough leverage to rise if their head or shoulders were held down, and the only concern of being knocked over by an arm or bucking was effectively neutralized with the limbs half-numb and tingling from the pressure of Kyn's knees and his weight tilted forward. "You are supposed to set an example for society. Such benefits as your rank accrues you demand certain responsibilities."

The trainee blinked back reflexive tears of pain, lips peeling back in a snarl. "Don't try to put yourself over me, gutter trash! You can scrape and grovel the rest of your life and nev - " He shut up, mid-word, as the poniard's gleaming tip tapped gently against his cheek.

"Thank you, for being so accommodating with a loose tongue," Kyn purred as he saw the fear begin to surface again, coaxing it out carefully with a slow, sly smile. "Unfortunately, it's wandered a bit from what I would like to hear from you. Let me set a few rules first, so that there are no misunderstandings between us. I would hate to damage you permanently due to a simple a mistake."

"Liar," Stefahn still had enough gall to snarl. It was clear that, uncertainties aside, he still didn't quite believe Kyn would be willing to go as far as he intimated.

Kyn shrugged unconcernedly at the accusation. "I was only trying to put you at ease, but as you please. I am first going to ask you some questions, and you will provide me with the answers promptly, truthfully, and as thoroughly as you are able. After, I will be giving you some instructions, which you will carry out to the best of your ability. Should you stray in any way from what I have just outlined, I will dig out an eye, starting with this one..." The poniard's point dimpled the skin just below the trainee's left eye. "Should you stray again, the other one will be forfeit too. Should you be foolish enough to stray yet a third time...well, I will have to get creative then, but I sincerely hope you will not put me through all that effort."

There had still been signs of struggle despite the futility, little minute twitches and jerks as Stefahn tested his limits. All such movements ceased, however, as soon as the blade was set to his face, and he stared incredulously at Kyn. "You...you wouldn't...they'll never let you get away with it!"

Kyn allowed his smile to stretch. "No, they won't," he agreed amiably. "But perhaps with the right words, a few years' penance, I will be free once more. You, however, will be scarred and blind. Can you imagine living the rest of your life in the dark? Needing someone to lead you by the hand, unable to perform the simplest tasks without aid? Feeling their pity..."

"Get off him, Kyn."

"Do not interfere, Brianna," Kyn called back coldly without breaking Stefahn's gaze, _pushing_ for that mental breaking point where the boy's will would fold before his, feeling it approaching - oh so close. "If you step within reach of me, I will take his eye regardless." The slightest of pressures slid the poniard's well-whetted tip infinitesimally into the skin, drawing a ruby drop.

The folding point arrived sooner than even Kyn had expected when Stefahn abruptly called out with a tinge of panic, "Don't move! Don't go near him!"

"Kyn won't do it. He's smart enough to know that he'll never - "

"He's insane! Of course he'll do it!" Stefahn hollered, expression wavering between terror, shame, and fury. "I'll do what you want, just get it over with!"

Kyn released a slow breath, his relief at the boy's easy acquiescence enough to almost make him dizzy for a moment. He had never delighted in the extraction of information, though he had been forced to use such methods on occasion, and liked it even less when forced to ply it on someone who was so obviously an uninformed pawn. He had little tolerance for tormenting those caught by bad circumstances - if he was forced to act, he would rather it be clean and quick, with one sure stroke. "Who sent you to kill Mennifei?"

There was a startled gasp that, from its position, sounded like it had come from the unknown trainee that Stefahn had been speaking to, still standing a little behind and to the right. A flurry of whispers arose at the same time, traded between what sounded like Brin's roommates, quickly hushed by a sharp word from Brianna. Stefahn stiffened, and Kyn could visibly see the denial that was about to emerge.

He shifted his weight subtly, enough to put pressure on the joints themselves, and the trainee snarled, writhing. "Promptly," Kyn hissed in reminder when he was sure he had Stefahn's complete attention. "Promptly, truthfully, thoroughly."

The boy swallowed, hatred plain to see, but that didn't matter so long as the fear reigned, and there was plenty of the latter to work with. "I don't know. She didn't give a name."

Something inside eased somewhat as the gender of the word-carrier was revealed. "What did she look like," he asked quietly, free with his questions now that he knew Master could not be directly implicated by whatever Stefahn babbled before witnesses.

"She...she looked like a tavern wench. Still had an apron on. Light brown hair, blue eyes; pretty for a commoner."

"Did she have any other identifying marks? A mole or freckles, perhaps?"

"I-I don't know. I didn't notice."

Not very descriptive, but then, he wasn't planning on tracking her down anyway. All he had wished to have was a general description to be wary of, in case she should be used again. "What did she tell you to say to me? What did you mean when you talked about redemption and masters?"

"I...I don't remember exactly," Stefahn said warily, squirming slightly when Kyn narrowed his eyes, gasping out hurriedly before the knife could lower, "I'm telling the truth! I didn't really pay attention to all that she was babbling...it was some fancy talk about masters and slipping leashes and stuff. Made you sound like some sort of...'pet'."

Kyn ignored the sneer that accompanied the last word and continued, "What had you been promised in return?"

Stefahn's lips thinned, jaw tightening, and Kyn shifted the blade just enough so that the bright spot of reflected light flashed across one blue orb. The boy flinched and squeezed his eyes shut. "She said this entire thing would be smoothed out! That there were people who would be able to redirect the accusations, but that Fei had to stop spreading hers first. And...and_ she_ said that they had already tried to reason with Fei before, but the only way...the only way to silence her..."

"You were willing to kill someone for the sake of your reputation?" Brianna asked with deceptive calm.

"Not _my _reputation, _his!_ Pa's ready to kill me by now!" Stefahn shouted. "It was all Fei's fault, why couldn't she just keep her mouth shut? You'd think she was the queen the way she holds herself above all the others! I'm not going to marry that whore just because Fei likes the sound of her own voice, I don't care what anyone says. But Pa, he wouldn't listen to me, he - "

"I think we've heard enough for now," Brianna interrupted before calling out, "Are you finished yet, Kyn?"

Kyn ignored the censure in her voice and carefully considered the trainee he had pinned beneath him. Bending forward, he whisper for Stefahn's ears alone, "Mennifei is beyond your grasp now, but you are not beyond mine, nor those who had approached you through the tavern wench. Walk carefully, Stefahn, and don't look back. If you do, you might lose more than just your eyes if you see too much." With a last warning tap of the poniard on the boy's cheek, Kyn rose smoothly to his feet - and closed his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath as he felt his balance sway with the abrupt change in orientation. He strangled a sudden, instinctive urge to reach out to Sianni and took two rapid steps back, trying to cover the lapse by making it seem as if he was moving to give the trainee room to rise.

"Get up. Go to your room, and stay there. Someone will be sent to speak with you." There was a pause, sounds of scuffling as Stefahn presumably did as asked, and Brianna continued in a softer voice, "I mean it. If you are there, we can determine exactly what is going on, without any...distractions. If you are not...there is nowhere you can hide."

Kyn opened his eyes warily, blinking as they focused to see Stefahn nod his head sullenly. Shooting Kyn a venomous glare, the trainee brushed crusted snow from the back of his head and shoulders with short angry gestures before walking stiffly away. Brianna watched the boy depart, unmoving until he had turned around a building and disappeared from sight. Then she bent to retrieve the throwing knife from the ground, brushing it off and looking toward Kyn with an unreadable expression.

Suddenly feeling uncertain, Kyn dropped his gaze from hers to focus on the blade, wincing when a shard of light from the metal seemed to stab straight into the back of his head. _Stupid, stupid... But sometimes things can't wait, opportunities won't come again, and there's so little time left, so few paths..._

"My knife, please."

Kyn started, glancing up in spite of himself.

Brianna had taken one step toward him and held out her hand. "My knife," she repeated in the same, patient tone, and added pointedly without rancor or any other ill feelings that he could detect, "please."

Kyn clenched his jaw, willed the trembling from his hand, and placed the hilt in her palm. "Thank you," he husked, retracting his hand rapidly and clasping it with the other behind him.

Brianna nodded, sheathing the poniard with a smooth motion. Never taking her eyes from him, she held out the throwing knife in the general direction of the boys. "Nathannel, I suggest you listen to Dhorin in the future and refrain from any more practice indoors. I'm sure your weapons instructors would be happy to accommodate your enthusiasm if you wish to continue pursuing the...'hobby'."

"Can they teach me what he did?" The woman turned a puzzled frown on Nathannel, and the trainee nodded toward Kyn with a wide grin. "I wanna grab knives out of the air like you did! Will you teach me? I'm sure I can find a way to compensate you for the time."

Kyn sighed, feeling his face pull into a sour look that only deepened at the faintly amused look Brianna threw him. "No," he stated flatly, and hurriedly overrode when he saw Nathannel girding himself for a round of protests, "Go find some street entertainer."

Nathannel blinked. "What?"

Kyn waved a hand vaguely, wishing he could dispel all of them with the gesture, like errant mosquitoes. Poof. All the recent troubles? Wave, poof. His head hurt...wave, poof. For one near-hysterical moment, he considered whether it would be more convenient to have just the headache poof, or for it to take his whole head with it. "I have seen jugglers accomplish the same or better tricks in their routines," he belatedly responded. "Go beg one of them." He began to pick his way carefully out of the alley, feeling just disconnected enough to be unsure of his movements. Nadia...he should find Nadia. He doubted that the day's exertions could have helped in any way. There were low, terse instructions from Brianna as she scattered the group of gawking boys, and Kyn rubbed a hand over his face before shivering. Halting at the alley's mouth, he tried to recall where the cloak had gone to before heading resolutely back for Brin's dorm.

"Child, that was quite a stupid thing you did, though I don't fault you for your motives. Just leave the defending of the ladies to others next time."

Kyn nearly laughed aloud; the statement seemed so absurd on so many levels. He was tempted to let her continue thinking as she did, but...he wasn't sure he would be able to keep all of the fabrications and lies straight at this rate. Best to make sure that nobody had any expectations. It would be far less painful to weather distrust than disappointment. "Why do you insist on calling me that ridiculous appellation? And my motives concerned nothing of Mennifei's benefit."

"Then why did you do it?" Bryn's voice piped up. Apparently, the boy had managed to worm his way into Brianna's good graces enough to warrant exception from the dismissal.

Kyn bit back a growl, nearly tripping over the first step into the dorm in his preoccupation. How cold was it supposed to get in Haven? They were barely into winter, and he was already damned near shaking apart! "I do not have to explain my reasonings to you."

"Then why did you bother correcting our assumptions?" Brianna asked in a far too reasonable tone of voice. "It would've been far more convenient if you'd just let us continue thinking you were the altruistic soul that you insist you're not."

The headache was lurching toward the forefront, doubling in size along the way, insisting on being acknowledged. Kyn caught at the doorjamb, taking a deep, trembling breath. "Listen to me. I don't care what you think. At all. If the results we wish for happen...happen to coincide, I suggest that you don't...do not protest too much or too loudly." He really should call out to Sia - to Nadia. Either he had just reached the end of his vastly reduced resources, or he had been a little too good at denial. Perhaps both. But either way, he would require a visit with the healer, the sooner the better, except suddenly he just couldn't dredge up enough will to do much more than stand there and try to remember what he had been doing.

"Of course you don't. Which is why...Child, Kyn, what's wrong?"

He shook his head, realized what a horrible mistake that was when the whole world spun around him, and leaned hastily against the jamb, one hand shielding tight-closed eyes. There was a tentative touch against his elbow, Bryn, he somehow knew, and he tried to shove the hand away with a snarled, "Don't touch me!"

He never knew if any of the words even made it past his lips. He was unconscious before the first syllable would have impinged on his ears.

* * *

Kyn knew of only two other times in which he had fainted. Oh, certainly, he had been knocked into unconsciousness before. Most of them, it had been his own instructors who had done it, out of exasperation or to teach a lesson - or, once, by accident. The instructor with staffs and polearms had been very apologetic when Kyn had come to again, and Master had stood quiet and still behind the man. After that day, Kyn had not seen the instructor again. Instead, four days later, another man had taken his place and continued where the lessons had left off. Accidents were not allowed to happen, were not tolerated, and it was one of the small comforts that Kyn had held to himself, one of the ways in which he knew that he was precious to Master.

Two other times unconsciousness had taken him through no abrupt physical trauma that he could remember. The first time that he had ever woken up in the manse, and when the withdrawal had been allowed to take its course to teach him respect and futility. And now, he was able to add another time to the list. As his senses began to return to him, as he realized what had happened, Kyn could feel a tiny pulse of fear lodge itself just beneath his heart. His body had betrayed him, luckily only after his confrontation with Stefahn, but there was no guarantee that it would not happen again at a critical moment. Certainly, he had stressed its limits lately, but...surely it could not have taken so little to bring him down like that? His skills were all he had left to depend on with his decision to estrange himself from Master.

"Go on and get the door, Child, I've got him. He's little more than skin and bones anyway; doesn't he know enough to feed himself?"

Brianna's voice, smooth and rolling with its own subtle, lazy drawl, floated in and out of Kyn's consciousness like a tide before steadying into a muffled hum, as if he had ducked beneath a thin blanket.

"Uhm...Kyn's been...he's been sick lately."

"Ah. That might explain some things. So what in havens was he doing traipsing around taking dips in the midst of winter and trouncing fellow trainees?"

Kyn felt something give on his left side, a warmth he hadn't noticed suddenly vanishing, and then he was uncomfortably jarred farther into consciousness when his weight was hefted even more to the right, balanced against something ‑ someone. The sound of a latch uncatching and the soft whisper of a door opening preceded the redistribution of his weight once again as the warmth of another body returned. Together, Brin and Brianna dragged him into what he presumed to be a room, relatively small judging by the way the sounds they generated sounded within the enclosure. 

"I...I really should leave all that to Kyn, or maybe Alberich. But...it all has to do with why you're here as his guard."

There was a soft, derisive snort as Kyn was eased onto a bed, and he finally began to take his own body into hand, not liking the idea of being handled like a side of beef.

"Right. His guard. I don't know yet if I should be thoroughly embarrassed for being made redundant twice in the past candlemark, or furious with Alberich for assigning me to ‑ ah, His Highness has rejoined us. How are you feeling, Child?"

"Kyn! You're awake!"

"Need you ask?" Kyn rasped, a little startled in spite of himself by how truly miserable he sounded, and scrubbed at his eyes with a grimace. The headache was still there, a prickly, sullen thing that squatted in the center of his skull. His innards were just beginning to develop knots amongst themselves, and he hoped sincerely that they were merely protesting a lack of food rather than warning him of impending cramps. All in all, he wondered if it had been a good idea regaining consciousness, even if he had only just berated his body for collapsing in the first place.

"Well, he is nothing if not consistent."

"What, being high‑handed, pig‑headed, utterly frustrating when it doesn't suit his purposes, and generally a pain in the behind? That would be an unqualified 'yes'."

"Good to see you again too, Healer," Kyn muttered beneath his breath, finally daring to crack his eyes open and squinting at the slant of sunlight flowing through the single window, the day nearly gone from the sharp angle of the beams' slant.

"Really, Kyn, if you don't like me that much, you really shouldn't place yourself into my care so often. People might talk," Nadia sniped back, closing the door behind her. She frowned at him pensively for a moment before turning to set her satchel on a nearby cabinet‑and‑shelves combination along with a gently steaming kettle. "Who are you?" she asked with a quick glance toward Brianna, her hands already moving quickly to sort out packets from her bag.

The guardswoman drew herself to attention, tipping her head slightly to the healer. "Brianna Tannin, currently under Herald Alberich's direct command."

Nadia arched one brow as she retrieved a mug from one side of the cabinet, barely glancing at the packets' labels as she began to mix various herbs, eyeballing the amounts. "So you're one of the new guards? Why are you here?"

It was Brianna's turn to scrutinize the healer as the guardswoman asked, "What do you know of my role?"

Nadia shrugged as she contemplated one last ingredient, pursed her lips, and set it aside instead of including it. Taking the kettle, she carefully poured the mug nearly full, covering it to let it steep. Walking over to the bed, she perched on its edge and reached out to peremptorily lay a cool hand on Kyn's forehead. "I know why you were assigned, though not why you have decided to shadow him so closely, rather than from afar. What happened, Brin?"

Kyn closed his eyes as he felt the tingling sweep of Nadia's surface scan and forced himself to follow Brin's slow, halting account of the day's events, starting with what the trainee knew of the confrontation at the sinkhole. He could hear the unusually subdued quality to the boy's voice, the uncertainty haunting the recounting of Stefahn's interrogation. Hopefully, Brin was finally reconsidering his dogged attachment after that little display of ruthlesness, though hopefully not enough that the trainee wouldn't still be willing to continue acting as informant. Kyn could all but feel Brianna's silent presence nearby, assessing and absorbing. He had the strange impression that she both knew more and less of his particular situation than Nadia or even Brin did, and was rapidly filling in what gaps that Alberich had left in her briefing with her own observations.

Nadia tapped lightly on his shields and he lowered them for her, frowning at their almost fragile feel. Even after assiduous practice, it seemed he couldn't quite leave the garden behind yet, not if he wanted to maintain any sort of balance within himself. And yet, to reach for the pool was to invite the retaliation of whatever suppressed his Foresight.

Frustration didn't quite cover what he felt about his predicament. 

"So what's the prognosis, Healer Nadia?" Brianna asked after a moment.

He felt Nadia's surprise when her name was used without introduction, but other than a brief flicker of wariness and annoyance ‑ at the Alberich _and_ the guardswoman ‑ she continued with false lightness, "If you would please step outside, _mer_ Tannin, there are aspects of Kyn's condition that I am not at liberty to reveal."

"No," Brianna responded pleasantly ‑ and unequivocally. "I need to know what is wrong so that I can do my job properly. Is he likely to be keeling over again in the near future?"

Kyn's jaw tightened and he husked waspishly, "You need not concern yourself with my 'condition', Brianna, as you will not be assigned to me long enough for it to become a concern."

"Oh, pardon me, Your Highness, but I had not yet been informed that Alberich had handed you his job."

There was a Brin‑like cough, and Kyn knew without needing to open his eyes that Nadia had been surprised into a brief grin, though she managed to suppress an outright laugh by the lack of sound. Releasing a breath, he tried to shift his head into a position that didn't ache quite as much. _:The sooner you're done, Nadia, the sooner you can wash your hands of me.:_

_:Not so fast, Kyn. I think I'm actually beginning to enjoy myself.:_

Kyn gritted his teeth. _:I am happy that you are amused, I truly am. But if you do not mind, I need a few more candlemarks of lucidity. After that, I am more than happy to spend the rest of the time up until reaching the duke's holdings drooling in a corner.:_

Nadia paused, deepening her scrutiny, and then she said aloud, "Brianna, if I understand the arrangements correctly, even if Kyn's guards are not on rotating shifts, he is to depart Haven in the next handful of days. Your services are not needed after that, and what is occurring really should be contained ‑ "

Nadia trailed off, the silence odd enough that Kyn slitted his eyes open in time to catch Brianna's slow shake of head and small, mirthless smile. "Healer Nadia, my orders had been perfectly clear. As soon as events warranted my presence, I was to stick to his side like a burr. I don't know anything about a trip, but I'm interpreting those orders as meaning that I'll be taking the same trip with him. Which means that if he's liable to take another nosedive toward the ground, I would like to know before I start depending a little too much on his homicidal reflexes."

Nadia's eyes narrowed before she turned to Kyn. "Is this true?"

He curled his lip. "How am I supposed to know?" Silently, he added, _:And please, either knock me out or head off the the fit. I really don't care which just so long as you make a choice within the next five seconds.:_

It was said as sardonically as he could manage, but evidently something else slipped through enough to bring a sharp look from Nadia, one that might have been overshadowed by genuine worry. _:Sorry. Can you really blame me for becoming distracted when the chance to make fun of you arises?:_

Kyn was still wondering whether he should bother with a retort or not when he finally felt the blessed relief sweeping through his body. Aches he had not even noticed beneath the larger pains were extinguished, the headache reduced to a low murmur, clenched muscles soothed into exhausted limpness as he relaxed with an unconscious sigh. He couldn't help reveling in it for a moment; the peace was always the most complete right after Nadia treated him. Even a bare handful of candlemarks later the complaints from his body would begin creeping in again, but usually few enough that he barely noticed them until they accrued into the next day.

"How long has this been going on?" Brianna's voice was quiet as she watched them.

"A couple of weeks," Brin hedged when the silence stretched and it became apparent nobody else was likely to speak up.

"What sort of sickness causes this? Is it contagious?"

Brin fidgeted before self‑consciously straightening, trying to attain a more confident air as his eyes flicked rapidly between all those in the room. "It's...it's not a sickness, exactly."

Brianna turned to stare at the boy, but before the trainee could do more than blanch, Nadia leaned back with a weary sigh, absently patting back a few loose strands of hair that had escaped her typical braid. "Kyn, how much longer do you need?"

Kyn released a long, slow breath, eyes slipping closed, feeling remarkably...mellow. He might have felt alarm, if he hadn't been so determined to hold on to the fleeting sensation of wellbeing. How much of the antagonism that he felt toward and from others, how many decisions that he had made in the last few days, had either originated or been influenced by the withdrawal? He, of all people, raised by the refined tastes and habits of a nobleman, should know the benefits of compliance. Agreeableness. Charm. There were always subtler, easier ways of getting people to do what one wanted than throwing a tantrum. It was disturbing to realize that his performance and methods had been so drastically affected by his mood...and he had not even noticed it until Nadia had provided him with a temporary relief. "A day."

"You've got until the eighth candlemark of the evening." The bedding shifted as Nadia stood, the sounds of the steeping mug being uncapped soon following.

Cracking his eyes open, Kyn frowned toward her silhouette, figure blurred and unfocused through his lashes. "A day," he repeated with a little more strength.

"Evening," Nadia snapped, sniffing at the mug's contents before bringing it over. "Can you sit?"

Kyn stared at the cup enfolded in her hands, steam still curling from its lip, and wondered briefly if it was worth the effort. But remembering that there was still the matter of the maps that needed to be taken care of, he grudgingly raised himself onto his elbows, shaking his head clear of a bout of dizziness before waving Brin back and sitting up completely. "What would be the difference, a few more candlemarks?" he asked as he reached carefully for the mug, wrapping his hands around its warmth and basking momentarily in its heat.

"Your health," Nadia stated succinctly as she returned to the bureau, cleaning up. "I would prefer that you slept all the way up until the last mark before we had to leave ‑ does that tell you anything about your current state?"

He sipped warily at the liquid, suppressing a grimace at its bitter taste though he did not hesitate to breath in its aroma, finding the equally obnoxious scent oddly soothing, enough to make his chest feel less constricted. "It could not have deteriorated so quickly. For the last three days I was being maintained by a single visit ‑ "

"You know perfectly well I was pushing for more even back then," Nadia rounded on him, paper crackling as her grip tightened on a fistful of empty packets. "And it was only a matter of time. You are not well, Kyn! Stop pretending that you are, and maybe there'll be some hope."

Kyn's eyes slanted toward her, unconvinced, but his gaze was drawn toward Brin unexpectedly as the boy stood. "Kyn," the trainee began, almost painfully straight‑postured, but grave and dignified all the same. "Would it be so bad, to rest and build your strength for the meeting with the duke? I don't think there is much more you can do now anyway, is there? If there is, I'm sure I could help you carry out some of the tasks ‑ enough for you to get at least a full day's rest."

Kyn unconsciously straightened as well, an ingrained response as his subconscious noted the effort at civility and genteelness and prodded him to accord the boy the same respect. Master had emphasized the reciprocity of respect. "True, there's little more I can accomplish from afar, but there are still a few small tasks that might give me an edge."

Brin's brow furrowed with a rare frustration, but his voice remained level as he countered, "An edge that is worth exhausting yourself? You won't be able to stand up to the duke if you can barely stand at all."

There was a snort of amusement from the other side of the room, Brianna not at all shy about pitching in her own two pence. "Brin's got a point, Child. And though I think the healer would be much improved if she spent more time with her bondmate, I trust her judgment in this."

There was an incoherent splutter from the maligned woman, and Kyn studiously kept his gaze averted from Nadia as he retorted, "And I'm supposed to trust your assessment of this just as much or more than theirs?"

Brianna shrugged with a disarming air and flashed that particular smile again.

* * *

And, finally, we'll reach Lynxfinn Holdings next time. =)

Anwen - Hee! Whoa, never realized there was so much mixed up in that name...blush Actually, I literally just pulled the name out of my head, and got a little creative with the spelling. Didn't do any research on any of the names, just kind of made them up as I went along. Hope you'll forgive me for that little faux pas? And thank you so much for the wonderful compliment.

ola - laughs And thank you very much for making that effort.

UrsaWolf - I don't know if this is *very* soon, but hopefully soon enough. =P And thanks!

Megan - lol. Oh well. We all know the next generation is hopeless, right? ^_~ snickers And thanks. =) Brianna really popped out all on her own, didn't know where she came from. Hope a further glimpse here hasn't changed your opinion of her. Woohoo! The more the merrier! Thank you very much. ^_^

SCWLC - No, he hasn't. ;) But then, he hasn't had a lot of practice dealing with a public in the first place. Hopefully he'll catch on soon, though. =P And you're half-and-half right. Yes, when I read Thief, I did wonder about that remark about murderers and assassins, and my imagination played with the idea for a little while. Honestly, though? I didn't start out with the intention of writing The Words Between *because* of it, if I'm making any sense. It kind of just veered in that direction (but maybe my subconscious is just playing tricks on me, neh?). It was actually the reading of some other fics (the titles of which I don't even remember now) that inspired me to start, but yes, in certain ways Thief did inspire me in the sense that it opened up the 'possibility' that such a premise as someone like Kyn might eventually be accepted would work.

Soulshadow - Thank you very much! Although, don't hold me to that 'well thought out' part yet. ;) I'm still fine-tuning as I go along, and you'll find that I occasionally go back to tweak things as I go along. Casualties of a mind that refuses to work linearly.

me ^.^ - Always happy to oblige. ;)

M'cha Araem - removes your mouse's button We really need to find ways of preventing you from accidentally removing your own posts. =) ROFLOL! Hmm...I *do* love brie. Maybe there was a subconscious suggestion somewhere in there. ^_~ And no, no, don't stop about the in-depth suggestions! I really should get someone to read my stuff and do exactly what you just did, but I'm afraid that I'm usually too impatient for something like that. I snatch times to write in between classes (heck, *in* classes too) and work and everything else, and by the time I finally get something finished, I don't want to wait any longer to just throw it onto the web. So all the reviewers get to act as my beta. =) I looked over what you pointed out and decided that I really liked what you had suggested, and made changes accordingly. I do believe Brianna's gonna be sticking around for at least a little while more, considering people's responses to her so far, though I'm not going to make any promises concerning the sequel right now. ;) 


	20. The Words Between: part 17a

The Words Between - part 17a

"Kyn?"

He shook himself out of the doze he had lapsed into, squinting in the late morning sun toward Brin.

"The manor will be within sight in a few more marks," the boy said quietly, motioning ahead.

Straightening with a deep breath, Kyn nodded his thanks and Brin smiled tentatively before nudging Raolian ahead...an unexpected courtesy, allowing him space to recover what wits he could. _Or maybe he's just trying to save himself from my temper, considering how uncertain it is these days,_ Kyn thought acerbically, grimacing and rubbing his eyes.

"...bloody noble."

Of course, some people weren't as concerned with courtesy as others - or just didn't hold a high enough opinion of him to care. "I beg your pardon?" Kyn asked wearily, barely injecting enough irritation into his tone to make the words worth uttering.

Brianna shrugged, meeting his eyes momentarily before she nodded toward the tow-headed boy chatting cheerfully with Nadia out of immediate earshot. "Brin. You're turning him into a bloody noble with all those looks and graces only you two would understand or make such significance of."

Kyn felt his brows twitch downwards in perplexity before he rolled his shoulders in a vain attempt to relieve the ache in his back, shifting his seat uncomfortably. His riding skills may have improved over the forced journey insofar as his ability to remain on horseback regardless of whether he was fully conscious or not was concerned, but he had gained little else that he could see beyond new pains in interesting and previously unsuspected places. "You are not making any sense."

"Oh, no need for your airs with me, Your Highness," Brianna snorted, urging her own chestnut mare forward to ride abreast of Sianni. "On Brin the refinement's charming, but on you it'll never be less than pure nose-thumbing arrogance."

Kyn tensed and gritted his teeth. Sianni skipped a step, jarring him, and he relaxed his legs, moving his heels from her ribs with a reflexive, internal apology. "If anyone is sporting 'airs', madam, I believe that would be you. Certainly, I do not employ condescension on whim alone."

Brianna laughed, an unabashed sound that briefly drew Brin and Nadia's attentions before they turned away again with puzzlement and suspicion on their faces respectively. Swallowing chortles, the guardswoman slanted a long look toward him. "Oh, I do not 'employ condescension' on pure whim either, Child. But one does wonder where such a pompous pup such as yourself sprouted from without name or title to boast of."

"And must all landed gentry automatically be pompous and condescending? Or the arrogant hide some secret tie to nobility?"

"They don't all have to. They just tend that way. Anyone that claims something others don't have can fall into the habit." She angled her sheathed sword, a thumb pushing up on the quillions and baring a finger's width of polished steel. "There's many a braggart in the guards as well," she admitted with a toothy smile before letting the sword slide back to rest. "Those who think they can claim some small amount of skill in the wielding of steel over others."

Kyn snorted derisively and turned away. Brianna chafed him raw with her quick and argumentative judgments - had him nearly tying her up and tossing her into a river at one point when they had passed sluggish black waters during their journey and he realized she just plain _enjoyed_ being contrary. But even Nadia would pause in the middle of her infamous rants to reconsider the wisdom of throwing a fit at a self-professed killer, and Brin need not even be considered if any hint of Kyn's displeasure was in the offing. Brianna, with her brassy disregard for anything even remotely resembling self-preservation, boldly and bluntly charged forward in all her ill-bred glory to beat her head soundly against his whenever she felt he needed it...which was distressingly often.

Still, there was something to the exchanges that prevented him from shirking her company altogether. She engaged him in an interaction that he had never experienced before except in the most stunted, artificial manner - banter had not been encouraged between his instructors and himself, and any other conversations he instigated in completing his assignments were restricted to their utility alone. It was with a sort of rebellious glee that he allowed himself to be drawn into such conversations nowadays, knowing he had nothing to gain except what mental tallies they kept between them in their word games. "You may disdain the 'airs' of a nobleman, Brianna, but we will soon be entering a den of them and I would see that Brin is well prepared to meet them."

"It's unfortunate that it wasn't altruism guiding your thoughts in that."

Kyn granted her the bare edges of a vulpine smile, not even bothering to refute the accusation.

Shaking her head with a broad sigh, Brianna tilted her head to look appraisingly down her long, aquiline nose at him. "What have you planned out in that tangled yarn you've got for a mind, Kyn?"

And, as abruptly as that, he was reminded of his lack of any plans at all despite appearances and lost his appetite for the conversation._ "_Survival," he stated bluntly and sent a gentle, mental nudge toward Sianni. Holding his breath as she had shown several times that she could be stubbornly recalcitrant if she was in the mood, he released it again slowly with relief when she grudgingly picked up her pace to a slow trot, soon catching up with the other two members of their group. 

To say that his relationship with Sianni had been strained - and not broken altogether - would be near enough lying to give the gods a second pause to reconsider. In all truthfulness, he had been preparing his excuses to the others as to why he would not be riding her on the journey to Lynxfinn when he had found her already tacked and waiting at the stable doors.

For a moment, as he had paused to stare back into her distant, glacial blue gaze, he knew with as much certainty as he was capable of without experiencing a full-blown vision that his life would be given for hers. Not because he believed there was some nebulous, overarching code called 'the right thing to do', or the Heralds would somehow manage, by some incredible feat of sorcery, to mold him into one of their own...but simply because she had appeared when he had not asked for her, when he had no real need for her, when she didn't know if the gesture would even be noticed, much less appreciated.

_Remember who and what you are, in all that you do, Kyn. Never stray from the principles and goals that you keep for yourself, by the smallest step, or nothing will ever be safe from rationalization._

It had become apparent what principles and goals Master held dearest, and Kyn had no place in them. Even foolish, blustering Stefahn was a suitable replacement if Kyn stood in the man's path. _Foolish, foolish boy,_ his mind had whispered to him at the realization, as his heart and lungs had constricted with resentment. _Remember that you are only as useful as your worth. If your worth makes it necessary to rescue you, there is no more point to your existence. Forget this foolish disappointment...it is merely just desserts for allowing yourself to believe your own lies. You allowed yourself to be lured by your own fantasies._

When had he begun to consider that he might have principles apart from what Master's were? Was the betrayal Kyn's or Master's, for failing an assignment or for betraying a supposedly implicit trust? Did it even matter? The man had begun to lose substance like the curling tendrils of burning herbs, fading and dispersing with time and distance, little more than a ghostly silhouette in troubled dreams these days. It had almost become an effort to remember the exact rhythm and timber of the _drag-thump_ of the crippled man's steps, while Sianni was a warm, solid presence moving smoothly beneath him.

But whatever doubts he might hold about anything else, Kyn was quite certain he knew what Master's response to the evidence of Sianni's appalling influence would have been, and in that he knew he strayed quite far from the man's wishes. _I will not let anyone touch you,_ Kyn silently promised Sianni. _I do not care if you abandon me tomorrow. I do not care if you reveal that you are yet another of Master's minions and trample me into the ground for my presumptions. That day, you came. You said nothing, demanded nothing...you simply came._

Staring down at the fall of near-translucent mane over the proud ridge of Sianni's neck, he couldn't resist stroking his fingers surreptitiously through the nearest locks. It was unfortunate that she was so eager to bind herself too close - he dared not allow her any leeway in the matter as he did the others. It was a risk he was unwilling to take. Furious as he may be at Master's decisions, he believed the man's lessons down in his very core, and he would sooner crawl back to the manse to slit his throat on its threshold before he would allow himself to fail a promise.

The teardrop-shaped ears suddenly flicked toward him, Sianni's head lifting to glance back at him with a low, questioning rumble deep in her chest. Guiltily snatching his fingers back, he checked his shields and carefully schooled his expression into impassivity.

"What an ugly looking place."

Kyn blinked, turning toward Nadia, vaguely registering the small frown of distaste that had overtaken her features before he asked, "I beg your pardon?"

She gestured forward impatiently. "_That_. It looks like something my nephew built in an afternoon with a handful of pebbles he picked up in the yard." As Brin covered a snigger, Kyn looked ahead and couldn't help but agree with the healer's sentiment, even if he lacked the necessary experience to grasp her analogy completely.

"It was built to impress potential invaders with its fortifications, not its beauty," Kyn remarked, throwing the healer a quick look when she snorted before returning his attention fully to the city and the most noticeable structure squatting in its center.

He had, of course, studied all he could of what had been written on the actual manor itself, pondered the few sketches he had found of its facades beyond the original building plans that Brin had given him. He had even allowed his thoughts to wander briefly through the last conversation he had carried out with the un-Herald, however reluctantly, and tried to test what his reactions might be on finally setting eyes on the place. But any feelings he could draw from his imagination had been murky at best, confused and insincere. Discomfited by his inability to assess how the place and all it represented would affect him, he thought, at least, he could wear out the 'novelty' in a sense by obsessing about the subject for a few days, allowing himself to gain a more objective perspective when encountering the real object.

Not so. Now that he was able to finally set his eyes on Lynxfinn Holdings itself, he found himself unwilling to even turn away, greedily tracing each edge and detail that gradually came into focus. _Shouldn't some part of it be familiar? How elaborate a scheme would - could - Master, the duke, and Alberich construct in order to fool me? Could the entire story of the past dukes and their families be a fabrication? Why would they even bother?_

"The original stronghold is where the manse now lies," Kyn continued absently, pointing toward the center of the fortifications, the only building visible as a separate structure at the current distance. He began to summarize what he had learned, subconsciously trying to banish emotions and personal ghosts with the calm litany of facts. "An underground aquifer had been sounded, and wells sunk to provide fresh water within the walls that would be erected. It was built atop the highest point of the knoll, to force attackers into an uphill fight. It could host a standing army without straining its resources unduly for almost a month, with proper warning and preparation. The inner wall had been its first and only defense for many long years - the outer curtain was not added until generations later, when the first titled duke claimed Lynxfinn and deemed it wise to protect the town that would inevitably grow about it. 

"It has stood for almost as long as Valdemar has," he continued after a deep breath, "and used to designate the end of where territory was held firmly in friendly hands when Valdemar's neighbors were still having trouble recognizing its sovereignty. Its expansion had been relatively slow, subjects drawn by the growing city and the promise of opportunities with the trade road so close, but little else to recommend the former fortress, so far removed from the refinement and society of the capitol both literally and figuratively. Yet Lynxfinn has seen remarkably few upheavals, growing steadily richer under the guidance of its dukes and their canny, if not exactly brilliant, management. A land that had once been known for the battles that swept through it as regularly as the seasons now lies fat and fallow far behind expanded borders, contented and quiet in its anonymity, its more restless children traveling elsewhere to find what excitement they may desire."

When the silence stretched without comment, Kyn glanced aside to find Nadia staring at him outright, not quite gaping, but only just. He arched one eyebrow. "I have seen birds after they have flown into glass panes look like they have more wits about them than you do right now."

"Uhm," Brin said diplomatically, looking a little stunned himself but recovering far faster than the healer - aplomb-wise, anyway. "I think...I think it was just a little more than she is able to swallow all at once..."

Nadia stiffened, revived promptly with the prick at her pride - whether intentional or not - and cast a glare toward an unimpressed Kyn and a contrite-looking Brin, kicking her gelding into a trot. "I swallowed it just fine, thank you very much. I was merely caught unprepared by the veritable lecture we received from someone as tight-lipped as Kyn. Really, I was beginning to wonder if his own wits abandoned him whenever he opened his mouth," she tossed over her shoulder before she moved out of range of easy speech.

Brin shrugged helplessly as Kyn turned toward him in confusion. "It could have been worse. I think she was flustered enough that she didn't have time to come up with anything truly insulting. After all, she could have easily dragged in your habit of - "

Kyn swiftly forestalled any further well-meaning but inevitably disastrous platitudes with an up-held hand and a grimace. "Thank you, Brin, but I think I can fill in the words between well enough on my own," he muttered crossly.

Brianna's chuckles swelled from behind them. "I have yet to meet this infamous duke of yours, Child, but if the 'peace' that you keep amongst your own fellows is any indication, it will be a fine time that we'll have here at Lynxfinn."

* * *

Short. Very short. My apologies. Mayhaps the writing bug will bite me harder the next time it visits. =) I decided that this part was being written way too many times and before I began making a one hundred and eighty-ninth draft, I should post it and move on.

Btw, a big thank you to everyone who has been following this fic faithfully and reviewing, *especially* those who have been reviewing every chapter along the way! It's absolutely amazing to me how much effort you make to be so consistent...I'm not even able to put out chapters on a regular basis. looks sheepish

Megan - Heheheh...would you believe that she was literally a thirty-second character? I gave her far less forethought than I did Nadia; I needed someone there and so I threw her in. But, admittedly, she has grown quite a bit since that first appearance, and I am very glad to hear that she's working out so well. I very much enjoy writing her.

Aysen - Actually, it was supposed to be DragonWarden, but I reflexively hit 'enter' too quickly (DragonWard is my IM login so I'm used to typing that) and it's such a hassle to change it that, by the time I noticed it, I just let it pass. =P As for why I chose that moniker in the first place...I'm not sure why, exactly. When I began my web site years and years ago, its main theme was dragons, and I wanted something unique to identify it. "The Dragon Warden" just popped randomly out of the blue, and I've identified with it ever since.

badgerwolf - grins I was thinking the same thing to myself just a week or so before I saw your comment. You're right; but, after all, Kyn's been trying his damnedest *not* to think about or associate with Sianni at various points. But don't worry; there'll be plenty of Sianni in the second part of the story.

drunkenfairy - Eep! Can't have that, now... eyeshifts Weeeeeeell...okay, maybe I would like to make sure your appetite's maintained at a keen edge by at least a *little* suspense. ^_~

ola - lol Sorry. ^_~ Tell her she should take up yoga or something. All that stress can be detrimental to her health.

SCWLC - laughs As long as you're sure you like it, then I'm content. =P eeps and hides Uhm...but breaks are good! You shouldn't study too hard...your brain might explode, and then where would you be? eyeshifts But see, I made the next part extra short so that you would have more time to do...whatever needs doing. Yeah. That's it.

FlameAngel012 - Thank you very much! Heheheh...and as you wished, I've given *ample* time for exams to be over before releasing the next part. =P (Though, the delay wasn't *exactly* due to that, but you don't need to know that... whistles)


	21. The Words Between: part 17b

The Words Between - part 17b

Kyn had not given their names to the guardsmen at the gates. He wanted time to get his bearings before being led up to the duke like fatted stock to the table. There had been a perfunctory interrogation on their purpose for visiting the city, but otherwise, they had been ushered through with little notice beyond a reflexive cataloguing of their collegium uniforms and the presence of Companions. Brianna received a little more attention with her guardsman's bearing and openly-borne weapons, but within a double handful of words, she had managed to not only get the two men on their side of the gate to laugh and grimace in commiseration with her to some occupation-related gripe, but invite her to a round of drinks at the currently favored tavern that evening.

Observing the entire process closely - and not without a touch of jealousy - Kyn decided it was a talent that he would never possess, at least, not in the same manner. All in all, he was discovering that Alberich's choice of people to sic on him was not that disappointing at all - if they ever got past the baring of fang and claw in ritual posturing stage.

"The city doesn't _look_ like its lord is practicing forbidden arts," Brin leaned over to whisper into Kyn's ear as they threaded their way down the main thoroughfare, and Kyn didn't quite manage to hold back a quelling glare for the obvious statement before rethinking the matter and shaking his head with a sigh.

"No, it does not," he muttered, though not exactly in agreement. Brin had brought up an interesting point that he had not considered before - what did a land under the rule of a man swayed by blood magic look like? Would there be obvious signs of suffering? Should there be any signs of suffering at all? Depending on the man's goals, the necessary sacrifices could be anything from the occasional cup of animal blood to entire wholesale slaughter of human victims - and Kyn realized with foreboding that he still did not know exactly what the duke was after. "Keep any other observations to yourself for now. No point in making ourselves even more conspicuous." Chastened, Brin fell silent and Raolian began to drift away after what could be interpreted as a remonstrative look. Kyn might have felt a hint of remorse, for he hadn't really intended the words as a criticism, but the boy really ought to have known better. Sianni made a tentative bid for mental contact, but Kyn coldly ignored the advance, and nearly bit his tongue when she retaliated with an unexpected skip in her step, jogging his spine from tailbone to skull.

Oblivious to the complex undercurrents running through the newest additions to the noon-day crowds, hawkers continued to try and draw the attentions of the passersby, their well-oiled spiels blending with dozens of conversations into a low hum that both soothed with its normalcy and grated for what it might hide beneath its clamor. Open stalls were not as frequent as actual storefronts; any individual peddlers were more likely to be pushing along their own cart or bearing their wares on their own two feet. They wandered with their customers, the avenue broad enough that there was still enough room for beast-drawn traffic down the center without jostling elbows or trodding on feet.

The architecture was eclectic at best. In the outer sections of the city at least, the influences of many generations and periods could be seen, starting from the city's very first days as little more than a settlement around a fort in unadorned, utilitarian granite blocks, to the broad, sweeping curves of wood facades that were the current favorite in decoration - all thrown together in a hodgepodge tangle of buildings old and new. As they progressed inwards, the tastes seemed to sort themselves out somewhat, districts revealing themselves by style, age, and subtle shifts in the skills and services offered. Crowds thinned as stores gave way to guilds and other, more esoteric business, and then finally evaporated altogether when they reached the residential areas surrounding the city's inner wall. Though many of the buildings were obviously constructed within the last few centuries, here too the materials and styles of construction were wide and varied.

The space past the inner wall was reserved solely for the keep itself.

"You said it used to be a fortress?" Nadia mumbled without taking her eyes from the open gates and the portions of the buildings beyond that were visible. Kyn nodded distantly, most of his attention directed toward trying to correlate what he knew of the floor plans to visible landmarks. "Still looks like a bloody fortress," she finished firmly before following a small but steady stream of people and carted goods through the inner gates, left wide for the traffic though another set of guards were stationed in full view on either side as deterrent for any casual trouble.

Kyn couldn't help agreeing, though his distraction came more from the realization of what the place might hold and who it _did_ hold than its aesthetic qualities or lack thereof. Trailing after the healer, their little retinue eventually found itself in a relatively open area in the courtyard that the gates immediately led to, and here Kyn took the chance to dismount. Sliding gratefully off Sianni's back, he took his time reaccustoming himself to bearing his own weight on two riding-stiffened legs before taking a slow look around.

There were quite a few additions to the layouts that Brin had managed to find for him that he could see from his current vantage point. While the maps were dated little more than half a century before, he could already make out many differences, and shuddered to think how much the interior of the keep itself might have changed. Half-turning to squint up toward the main building itself, he felt something leaden form in the pit of his stomach as he noted the most ostentatious one by far: four square towers, placed each at what he knew were the cardinal points even though relative to the holding, they were slightly skewed from the orientation of the wings. None of them had even been hinted at in the floor maps he had studied.

There was an almost palpable dread associated with them in his mind, something that his muzzled Sight was desperately trying to tell him but which he couldn't even begin to grasp, the twin pressures of frustration and whatever thwarted his Gift a smothering weight in his chest until he felt almost light-headed from a perceived lack of air.

"Were you planning on informing me of your arrival, or was I supposed to be pleasantly surprised at the evening meal?"

Kyn bit back a retort that even he knew would not be flattering - no matter how it was interpreted - and turned to face the duke, somehow managing a small, empty smile along the way. "My lord," he said formally, bowing his head, "I beg your pardon for not announcing myself immediately at the gates, but I had not wished to interrupt your schedule." In actuality, he was a little unnerved by Se'Fannouel's prompt appearance. Heralds and Companions should not have been a novel sight, at least in the city proper, and there had been nothing else that would indicate the guards were placed on the alert for their descriptions. For the duke to have noticed them so quickly upon passing through the city's inner gates...

_Did you really think you could come within thirty feet of me without my noticing?_

It seemed that the duke had only spoken the utter truth that time, if all it had taken for him to detect Kyn's presence was the fact that they had happened to be in the same general area. Which meant that Kyn's already slim chances of stopping the man and his schemes had just dwindled even further. _If I'm not just letting paranoia interpret coincidence as conspiracy._ There was danger in that too, overestimating an opponent.

"Do you think I hold my daughter's life in so little esteem that I would not place my business on hold for the time it takes to greet her rescuer?"

Kyn's smile turned even more brittle as their eyes met with perfect understanding. "I would not presume to assess what worth my lord finds his daughter's life," he drawled between bared teeth, noting with no little interest the brief frown that flickered across the man's face - for all the world as if the duke had taken offense at the insinuation. "But I am flattered that he holds me in such high regard." Out of the corners of his eyes, he barely caught Brianna rolling her eyes.

The expression seemed to have caught the duke's attention as well as the man interrupted the game of baiting to coolly examine the woman with an upraised brow. "The boy and the healer I recognize, but it seems you have picked up another companion along the way."

Brianna straightened to a form of attention and bowed her head in curt acknowledgement of his rank, if not complete respect. All considering, she was on remarkably good behavior. "Brianna Tannin, recently of the queen's guard."

"Recently of the queen's guard?" Se'Fannouel's eyes narrowed in a frown as he clasped his hands behind him. "And you've decided to depart and find work elsewhere...?"

"Oh, no," Brianna informed with such cheerfulness that Kyn cringed inwardly. The guardswoman always sounded the happiest when she was contemplating some sort of mischief. "I'm currently on vacation. When I heard young Kyn here was going off traveling, I demanded for what time I had accumulated immediately. I couldn't possibly let him wander off by himself. He's like a little brother to me, you see." She made a movement toward Kyn, but he ducked away before she could cuff and ruffle his hair, giving her a perplexed glare in the process. He didn't know whether he was more aghast at her portrayal of their relationship, or how she had just so casually lied to the duke when they all knew she was fabricating everything on the spot.

Still, the duke didn't seem intent on making a spectacle of it for the moment. Se'Fannouel's brows knit, making the man look nearly as bewildered as Kyn felt. Nodding a little absently, the duke murmured, "I see," and struggled to dismiss the subject when all he received was a gamine grin from Brianna in response instead of further elucidation. "Well. It is a...pleasure to have met you, Brianna. Rooms have already been prepared in expectation of your arrival, Kyn, and any extra guests that you might have brought with - "

"Sen!" a call interrupted the duke, and everyone turned to see a man dressed in the rich clothes of some lordling, white-gold hair gleaming platinum in the high sun, striding rapidly toward them with ground-eating paces but somehow managing to appear completely composed in the process. "What were you thinking, wandering off like that? I was not quite done with you yet!"

Se'Fannouel uttered a sigh, visibly gathering himself as he responded in a raised voice to be heard over the rapidly diminishing distance, "If you had been paying any attention to what I was saying instead of the quite delectable but very married young Lady Rosalind, you would have known that there was business that I had to see to."

Brin's mouth dropped open as he realized the newcomer's brash words had been directed toward the duke, and then snapped closed again just as quickly when Se'Fannouel replied in the same spirit, the two obviously close friends. Nadia was regarding the entire scene with impatience - or perhaps it was thinly disguised nervousness considering the way her eyes darted toward every abrupt movement within the courtyard. Brianna had drawn herself up alertly at the first hail, though now she stood in her usual, loose-limbed, seemingly relaxed stance after a quick assessment of the arriving lord. Kyn himself had done his own snap-estimation of the man before turning quickly to catch everyone's response, a vague curiosity creeping over him as to what Se'Fannouel was like in his own territory surrounded by people he knew intimately.

"Are you implying that I had designs on the beautiful and virtuous Lady Rosalind? For shame," the lordling exclaimed as he pulled abreast of the duke. Quirking his brows upward, he continued, "And are we to have guests tonight?"

The duke smiled thinly, gesturing toward each person in turn as he introduced them. "Brin, Nadia, Brianna, Kyn...this is the baron Tarrin Salvonsson, a family friend. Tarrin, I invited them to spend a few days with us. Please remain on your best behavior."

Tarrin immediately sketched out a flamboyant bow toward the women, making Nadia shift uncomfortably with a scowl and Brianna smile widely in amusement. "Erstwhile friend on occasion, depending on his mood, but I do try - " He broke off abruptly, olive-green eyes dragging to a halt when they fell on Kyn in their perusal of the newcomers. Kyn experienced his own touch of surprise as he examined the man intently in turn, trying to place where in the havens he had seen him before...

"And I can attest to the fact that he is very trying," Se'Fannouel noted dryly in the unexpected pause that followed.

Kyn cautiously glanced between the two men as the duke's remark drew him from his reveries. A flash of confusion flitted across Tarrin's face, quickly replaced by something much grimmer as the pale eyes slid toward the duke, and Se'Fannouel's expression was edged by something almost...smug. The baron's mouth thinned, a muscle jumping in his jaw, before he finished straightening with a bright and nearly genuine-looking smile. "Well, his lordship has yet to send me to the gaols, so I suppose I am still safely within his good graces for now. If you would like to avail yourselves of my company while my head is still firmly attached to my shoulders - and I do encourage you to do so, I am told that it is an experience not to be missed - I would be happy to regale you with tales of Aisner's past follies..."

"I would contend that your head is as loosely attached as your tongue, and that either is equally easy to remove," Se'Fannouel interrupted blandly as he motioned toward the main hall. "But you do have your uses. I am afraid there are matters that will most likely keep me occupied until the evening meal. If you are courageous enough to place yourselves in the care of my cousin here, I will allow him to entertain you until I am able to be a proper host myself."

"_Allow_ me?" Tarrin mock bristled. "And what do you suppose a seneschal is for, Sen?"

Kyn nodded tersely, ignoring the baron's antics. "Of course, my lord."

The duke smiled indulgently. "And perhaps later, we can meet for a private discussion. There is much I would like to ask you about."

Inclining his head, Kyn mumbled beneath his breath, "Likewise."

"Tarrin, the guest rooms along the second floor of the west wing have been aired out for them," Se'Fannouel said as he nodded in farewell.

Sighing dramatically as the duke departed, Tarrin surveyed the group once more and then gestured toward the keep's main entrance. "Well, it seems that I have been left with the responsibility of seeing you to your rooms and other such pleasantries. Do not worry for your Companions; Heralds often pass through Lynxfinn, and we have experienced stable hands. If you will come with me, please..."

They took down their personal packs and belongings from the saddlebags, and reluctantly turned the Companions over to the care of two stable boys that had been patiently waiting near the courtyard's peripheries as soon as the ivory steeds had entered. Glancing back occasionally to make sure that they were all following, Tarrin alternately entertained them with snippets of the keep's history as they walked up the six shallow steps leading to the main entrance and fussed over any straggling members like a mother duck over her train of young ones.

The baron proved to be surprisingly well informed on Lynxfinn's particulars as they passed between the iron-strapped doors, the portal left open though guards stood imposingly to either side, the slant of their spears dissuading casual entry. Kyn noted their prompt straightening upon Tarrin's approach with great interest, the men - armored and tabarded in the duke's colors of blue and gold - drawing themselves to stiff attention and snapping their weapons aside with a responsiveness that he had not thought the baron would warrant. Seemingly oblivious, Tarrin chattered on about various snippets of ancient gossip and the building's architectural eccentricities as he led them inside.

The main hall was almost cavernous in feel, cool and shadowed, framed all around by rough-dressed stone punctuated only by small, distant windows far overhead. It was surprisingly large; nearly three stories above, when the keep's highest point sported four floors if one discounted the towers. At the far end was set an array of chairs of varying proportions behind a long table on a low dais - a somewhat pretentious display for conducting audiences, but Kyn reserved any opinions on the duke's practices until he could observe the man further. Se'Fannouel had already proved that he was no fool where appearances were concerned.

Despite its size however, the main hall did not depend on the one feature alone to impress. Other than the distant, echoing space that dwarfed any petitioners that ventured within, there was one other thing that imprinted its presence indelibly on the memory: its pillars. A full dozen lined it on either side, creating a wide corridor down its center while leaving the hall's edges in the shadow of a lower ceiling, their girths requiring more than two grown men with their arms outstretched to span. And like the hall itself, beyond their sheer size, they were imposing for another reason - each one was intricately carved with a single figure.

Demons bore Lynxfinn upon their shoulders. 

Great, snarling visages pinned sightless eyes upon whoever was bold enough to stride down the center of the hall. Shackled by the weight of the stone blocks upon their bowed backs, the demons steadied their burdens with gnarled, claw-tipped grasps. Each pair of statues were vastly different; some had wings, others had horns, some looked leathery in texture while the rest bore scales or other armor. Each boasted different features and identifiably divergent shapes, and yet were all alike in form - powerful, fearsome, hunched upon one knee while they strained beneath their burdens, faces twisted in a silent growl in their wrath.

Gazing upon the carved faces, Kyn shuddered and swayed with a sudden bout of dizziness, mouth abruptly dry and heart racing from some unknown fear that a hobbled Gift would not allow full substance.

_:Kyn,:_ Nadia's thought impinged gently on the suffocating silence that had engulfed him. He shivered anew when she touched his elbow, her presence an almost scalding warmth against his right side. _:Kyn, what is wrong?:_

_:N-nothing,:_ he returned shakily, tearing his gaze away and staring determinedly at the floor, willing the fit to pass. Sensing her annoyance and not wishing to alienate her even further within the enemy's own home, he amended,_ :Nothing that you can help with.:_

_:Are you certain?:_

He nodded as he pulled away, carefully avoiding looking toward the pillars again, joining the baron and Brin where the two had become embroiled in conversation while Brianna explored one of the columns in more detail. _ :Just...they were just trying to remind me of something.: _He could feel her confusion though she did not press, and he was all too grateful when the baron began to wander off, continuing the tour out of the hall while he answered Brin's questions with Brianna tossing in one or two inquiries along the way. Few people resided in the hall, most busily passing through on whatever errand they were on, casting the occasional look of curiosity their way but otherwise acknowledging nothing beyond their immediate tasks.

They were led through a short, snake-like corridor that folded in on itself in slow curves before entering a vastly different part of the keep. In the west wing, the ceilings were lower, the floor paneled in wood, lamps hanging from the walls rather than smoky torch sconces. It held a surprising warmth though the walls were otherwise unadorned, and the windows that occasionally dotted the corridors were large and expansive, sporting precious glass. Climbing a flight of stairs that wound around in a shallow spiral, they were treated to the same scheme above, one side of the hall that ran the length of the building interrupted evenly by plain wooden doors. Tarrin began to tie up the end of some anecdote - one that Kyn had barely caught one word in five of - that had Brin blushing brightly and even Brianna looking a little startled, and waved flamboyantly toward three doors in particular that had been propped half-open, a barely detectable breeze indicating that windows in the rooms had been opened as well to allow the air to circulate. "And here we have arrived, safe and sound, to your accommodations. It appears that we have prepared one room short, however; I am afraid two of you will have to share."

"That would be myself and Kyn," Brianna declared blithely, immediately stepping past the baron into the first room to survey its layout.

Tarrin blinked, staring after the guardswoman for a moment before turning a speculative gaze on Kyn, a corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly upwards. "Possessive, isn't she?"

Kyn stared levelly back at the baron, not about to dignify the implication with a response.

Tarrin's smile grew a little wider before he was distracted by Brianna's reappearance. Hands braced on her hips, already divested of her packs, Brianna had a satisfied expression as she stood in the doorway, surveying the corridor. "Looks good," she proclaimed.

"I am happy that the domicile meets with m'lady's approval," Tarrin intoned soberly, drawing a snort of amusement from the guardswoman. Winking, he then turned to the rest of them, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly. "Well, since there are still a few candlemarks left till the evening's meal, perhaps we should take a stroll through the gardens? We might not have the sophistication and refinement of Haven society, but the gardens created and tended by each successive generation of duchesses are a wonder to behold. If it weren't for the somewhat insular characters of Lynxfinn's lords, I would daresay they would be renowned throughout the land - and it would not hurt to work up an appetite before eating. Aisner never withholds the largesse of the land."

"He's even worse than you," Nadia teased Brin in low tones, garnering an embarrassed flush which she ameliorated with a muted laugh.

Kyn mulled over the offer for little more than a heartbeat before he decided, "I will go." He looked toward Brin and caught the boy's eyes with his own. "How tired are you, Brin?" he asked pointedly. "I can show them to you later if you wish to rest."

There was a gratifyingly short, though nevertheless detectable pause as Brin's brows knit in confusion. But then the boy's face cleared and he nodded - perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, but the look of apology he turned on the baron was appropriately earnest. "Yes, I'm afraid I'm not used to traveling. If my lord would excuse me, I will take the chance to rest."

"Of course, of course," Tarrin said graciously, giving no indication that he had noticed the momentary lapse when Brin was trying to interpret Kyn's intentions. "And the ladies?" he turned to Brianna and Nadia.

"I go where he goes," the guardswoman stated bluntly, gesturing toward Kyn, a response that drew another sly smile from the baron before he turned to Nadia for her answer.

The healer hesitated only briefly before nodding. "I would like to see the gardens as well."

"Wonderful! It would not have been the same with only us bachelors. While the gardens are truly enchanting, even at this time of the year," he swept up Nadia's hand and bowed over it with a suggestive smile before she could protest, "there are other blossoms that our eyes are more naturally drawn by," he finished in a low, sultry tone.

Nadia stiffened and snatched her hand out of his grasp, visibly curbing a sharp rejoinder before settling on a cold, "I am lifebonded, Lord Tarrin."

"And is your bonded so miserly that he would not allow others a glimpse of his bounty?"

Nadia drew herself up with a deep breath, eyes flashing and voice cutting. "I am not a bauble to be taken out and displayed at another man's whim!"

Tarrin held up his hands in the universal gesture for peace - or surrender - and backed away with a less than contrite look. "Please pardon my hasty words, madam! I wished merely to flatter, not to offend. But alas," he bemoaned, gaze sliding toward Brianna with a hint of trepidation, "your adamant refusal to indulge my innocent attentions leaves me with...few options."

Brianna cocked an eyebrow, and then gave him a feral smile that would have done a fire drake proud in the number of teeth that were bared.

While they were distracted amongst themselves, Kyn stepped close to Brin, taking the chance to lean over and murmur, "Find Mennifei. Make friends with her. Give her something that your Sight can follow, and check on her wellbeing every half candlemark."

"You want me to - I-I can't spy on her!" Brin spluttered, face unaccountably reddening as he turned abruptly to face Kyn.

"_You_ spied on _me_," he reminded sharply.

"That - that was different," the trainee insisted, shifting his feet and looking quickly away.

"Why?" Kyn asked impatiently.

"Because you're a boy!" Brin hissed with a faintly scandalized tone. "And I made sure to check up on you only when you were out and about!"

Kyn stared at him for a long breath before he realized what the trainee was getting at, and then rolled his eyes with a frustrated noise. "I am not asking you to _watch_, for havens' sakes! I just want you to make sure she is safe!"

Brin tilted his head skeptically, but as Kyn continued to glower at him, he finally nodded before grimacing, "Do I really have to be friends with her?"

Kyn sighed in resignation, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just do whatever you have to do to allow your Farsight to follow her movements. Understand?"

Bryn nodded unhappily, and Kyn returned his attention to the others in time to catch the baron looking decidedly pale. Brianna had an expression so smug that a cat would have turned green with envy, while Nadia - Nadia looked far too amused for Kyn's comfort. The healer had often sported similar looks when it was at his expense, and he felt an unexpected stroke of pity for Tarrin - though not enough that he would have wished the same situation visited on himself instead. Not waiting for the scene to finish with, perhaps, the women's fickle moods swinging unexpectedly toward including him in their 'fun', Kyn interrupted, "Shall we go?"

* * *

The gardens truly were a splendid affair, at least in the sense that they were extensive and well-tended. Kyn had experienced few beyond the occasional plot he had wandered through on his errands and, of course, the half-wild one at the manse. But even he was able to sense that the tamed jungle they were entering was somewhat above the par.

"The water tables here are deep enough to allow us some small luxuries," Tarrin joked, seemingly unfazed when nobody responded to his tongue-in-cheek comment. "Though most of the gardens are similar, some sport a truly unique flavor that one can only find far, far from here, if not outside Valdemar's borders altogether. The duchesses can be very imaginative, and some had traveled widely, bringing their experiences with them."

There were indeed distinct 'plots' despite the lack of anything as overt as fences or walls, the layout and vegetation changing abruptly at some prearranged, invisible border. Nadia's hand kept straying toward a leaf or twig, fingering the texture and occasionally breaking off a small sample to examine more closely, sometimes tucking it away in her belt or some hidden pocket. Though snow had yet to fall in Lynxfinn - and would visit only briefly when it did - there was a fair amount of browns interspersed amongst the greens. It was a tribute to the tenders that the dead growth was so promptly trimmed away, allowing other, seasonal plants to claim dominance, creating a pleasing display despite the time of the year.

Bright purple and red berries provided accents in one corner, small and wrinkled and hard as nuts, while in another mosses shading rusty red and burgundy trailed teasingly over strategically placed borders and miniature trees. Curly willows with their fiery orange and yellow tendrils clashed and tangled over a small, decorative stream, the rocks that lined it rimmed with delicate fronds of frost.

"All of the duchesses contributed to the garden?" Nadia asked, fingering the smooth silvery bark of a birch as she passed.

Tarrin waved a hand vaguely as he finished his latest comment about the current scenery before answering, "Not all of them. We skip the occasional generation. A good thing too, I say, or we would have long run out of room!" Flashing them a smile over his shoulder, he brushed aside a lacey hedge of brittle, dry branches that rose over head-height and stepped around a bend in the path. "Very few of the gardens were remade altogether. Instead, most of the duchesses chose merely to contribute to the work of their predecessors; adding here, rearranging there...why, I hear tell that one in particular had no talent at all in the arrangement or raising of plants, and decided to donate a set of rocks instead! Though, one admits that they are very nice-looking rocks if you would look to the side there..."

Kyn released a silent sigh, feet following the baron automatically as his thoughts roamed elsewhere. Glancing up, he spied the edges of two of the square towers through the foliage overhead. The baron was obviously there to distract them, keeping them busy with innocuous things, but he had yet to decide whether it was merely an overenthusiastic sense of a host's obligations, or if the attempt was a conscious one encouraged by the duke. As the baron rambled on, Kyn continued to observe him surreptitiously, brow furrowing as little snatches of deja vu would pounce every so often - when the man tilted his head just so, or turned his profile in a certain manner... Though Kyn was certain he would remember the foppish-seeming lord if he had set eyes on him before, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen that visage before, though it was maddening that he could not place exactly where.

"Oh, this is most charming. Though, do you let the pool stagnate?" There was a hint of disapproval in Nadia's Healer's voice for what ills might be cultivated in bodies of standing water, and Kyn turned to see what she was referring to. Saw the pond. And felt the breath freeze in his lungs upon seeing it, _his_ pond, sitting ever so innocently against a decorative pile of lichen-spotted boulders. Though the arrangements were different, the black-barked willows were there as well, the ring of mortared stones penning the waters in, and the smooth, undisturbed surface that reflected the sky...

"No, the garden tenders drain it every so often, more times in the summer so that the insects do not multiply unduly. They can be vicious little beasts in the heat."

"Who was responsible for this?"

As Tarrin looked toward him in confusion, Kyn realized belatedly that the question had come from him, shaped by a voice grown rough with shock and memory. "This little haven? I believe it was the duchess Kayla _dan_ Mrr'Thaine." The man shook his head slowly, face falling into lines of sorrow as he gazed upon the pond. "A very sad story, hers. Hers, and her family's. Sen and I miss Vinsen and Jenner terribly."

"What happened?" Nadia asked quietly when the baron did not seem inclined to continue.

Tarrin shook himself, giving them a wan smile before he forced himself into a semblance of his old cheer. "Merely old history, m'lady. Perhaps the duke would tell it to you after the evening's meal, if you are still interested then. Come, let us continue on; there are only a handful of areas left in the gardens that we have not passed through yet."

Kyn found his attention wandering back toward the pond of its own volition, hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching as he considered its presence and the truths it implied, ones that he could no longer deny or ignore. _But does it matter?_ a cold, logical voice asked from deep inside. _Does the knowledge change anything? Would you act differently in any way?_

And there was only one answer to that. _No._

_:Kyn.:_

He nearly jumped, so lost in his own thoughts that Nadia's Mindspeech had startled him badly. _:Yes?:_ he replied, a little more sharply than he probably should have, but she seemed distracted enough that she didn't notice.

_:Kyn, Raolian says that Brin says there is a hall where the portraits of the dukes that have lived at Lynxfinn are hung in the northern wing. He said he thought you might be interested.:_

He turned to blink at her in blank incomprehension for a moment before mild surprise leaked in. _:Why did he think that?:_

_:I don't know. But mind telling me why he's passing this through his Companion to me, rather than relaying it to you directly or even through Sianni before going through all the trouble?:_

He turned away from her accusing gaze, instead fixing on the disappearing figure of the baron as the man continued on to the next section, calling out, "My lord."

_:Don't ignore me, Kyn!:_

Tarrin halted with a glance back, brows raised in question. "Yes?"

Kyn ignored her. "I beg your pardon," he said formally, bowing slightly, "but I believe the journey's fatigue has finally caught up with me. I think I will be joining Brin in our rooms until the evening."

Tarrin tsked, turning to walk back the way they had come. "Why did you not say so earlier? I would have - "

"I am sure the ladies would like to see the rest of the gardens," Kyn forestalled him, holding up a hand to halt the man. "I can find my way back."

Brianna frowned, the first serious expression that had stolen over her features that Kyn could remember since they had left Haven. "I can lead the way..."

"I can find my way back," Kyn emphasized with a stern look. "I do not require an escort."

Tarrin looked between the two of them before smiling ingratiatingly and adroitly hooking his arm through Brianna's, happily oblivious to the look the guardswoman gave him at the presumption. Kyn was frankly surprised the baron's limb was still attached. "M'lady, let the boy's pride be. He seems a capable enough lad. Let me show you this delightful little copse..."

Brianna swayed but didn't otherwise move, both feet planted firmly and nearly pulling the baron off-balance when the man turned to lead her away but didn't find her quite as biddable as he had hoped. "I cannot provide protection from halfway across the holding."

Kyn tilted his head. "Are you implying that I would require protection within the duke's own home?"

"Yes," she stated flatly.

Kyn clasped his hands behind him, meeting her eyes unflinchingly. "Then I suggest you take the time to familiarize yourself with the grounds. I will see you later this evening." Without giving her a chance to produce a rebuttal, he turned and retraced their steps back to the keep.

* * *

It had been surprisingly easy to navigate his way to the northern wing; there had not been as many modifications inside the buildings themselves as he had feared. There was only one point at which he paused, when a chill draft had brushed across the back of his neck as he passed a dark alcove. Turning and taking a step toward it, he had discovered the beginnings of a staircase - a staircase that had not been in the plans, and a quick review of his position confirmed that he was close enough to one of the towers' general area that it could have led up to the construct's entrance. Backing warily away, he had marked the position carefully in his mind before loping away to explore the rest of the adjoining halls.

He found the portraits in a corridor set on the ground floor, but with a ceiling that reached nearly as high as the main hall's did. Narrow, rectangular windows were staggered with carefully framed paintings between them, the edges immaculately dusted and cleaned. Standing at one end of the corridor, gazing down the neat line of edges denoting the Mrr'Thaine bloodline hanging from the wall, Kyn couldn't help noting how quiet it was there - quiet like the manse was quiet, like the collegium never was. Though the high, vaulting ceiling and the leaf-dappled rectangles of sunlight cast on the opposite wall were unfamiliar, Kyn felt a sudden, shocking pang of homesickness. Placing his hand flat against the smooth, polished stone to his side, he closed his eyes and inhaled.

The scent was subtly off. Deserted as it was, the hall still held the memory of recent use, a shift of air currents that bore the sound and warmth of the outside world, carried with the passage of servants and guards. The chill was the same though, the heat leeched inexorably from his hand by the sandstone and crude marble. The silent, patient air of sleeping things was the same. If it weren't for the slight movement of air in the groined reaches above, he might have fooled himself into believing he was back home.

_Home_, he thought bitterly, opening his eyes and dropping his hand from the wall. _Why are my memories all of the manse, and not here? Why am I always reminded of a place leagues from here rather than this place itself?_

"Misplaced, weren't we?"

Kyn sucked in a sharp breath, whirling around to meet the, for once, sober face of the baron, Tarrin. Shivering once to dispel the adrenaline-induced tightness from his muscles, he said as calmly as he could, "Merely misinformed. I believe I took a wrong turn at - "

Tarrin held up a finger to his lips, and Kyn fell silent, taken aback by the gesture. Smiling slightly, the baron walked past Kyn, passing by one window, the painting that hung by it, another window, and stopping before the second portrait. "That was not what I meant." Clasping his hands behind his back, he looked toward Kyn expectantly.

Kyn felt the tension creeping back in as he watched the lord's actions, and he had a brief thought of simply refusing the strange confrontation. But the urge to retreat was subsumed by the expectation of what he might be able to learn and the fear of missing something important. "My lord?" he questioned as he approached, stopping just out of reach.

"You need not call me that," Tarrin said, reaching out to take Kyn's shoulder, but changing the gesture into an invitation to stand beside him when Kyn leaned away from the touch. "In truth, you should_ not _call me that."

This time, Kyn shivered, not because of residual startlement, but out of dread. "I...do not understand."

Tarrin's mouth curved in an amused smile. "I think you do. All too well." Nodding toward the portrait which Kyn had yet to allow himself to see, he added, "There is no need to pretend. Not with me."

A reflexive protest rose in Kyn's throat, but was never voiced as he finally raised his eyes to the larger than life-sized painting. Three people stared out of it at some unknown point over his shoulder; one man and two youths seated before him.

The duke was obvious in his formal raiment; a large-framed man with a clean-shaven face and a rich autumn mane that sat indeterminate between auburn and brown. Pulled back to a tail at the base of his skull, it left his face unfettered, gray-green gaze direct and challenging. Ignominiously, a smattering of freckles capered across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, surprisingly few considering a complexion that would show only the barest shadings from the sun, but nevertheless present. His features, though not given to mirth, were not cruel, and held a certain confidence that bespoke of challenges met and overcome.

"The artist had a prodigious talent," Tarrin commented as Kyn's attention strayed to the elder of the two boys. "His bloodline has painted the families of Lynxfinn's lords for five generations, and I can assure you, the likeness...is truly remarkable."

Something in the baron's voice made Kyn look sharply toward the man, and he swallowed thickly when he found Tarrin staring intently at him.

_"...is truly remarkable," a platinum-blond haired man said, an avid curiosity in glass-green eyes..._

The vision. Or more correctly, the fraction of a vision that he had glimpsed during his last experiment with his Gift while under Nadia's watch back at the collegium.No wonder the man had seemed so familiar. "Truly...remarkable," was all he could muster in a voice become dry and thin as he looked quickly away and stared at the youth that should have been duke in Se'Fannouel's place.

Vinsenail Mrr'Thaine was more slender than his sire, though he had inherited his father's coloring. His hair, pulled back in imitation of the duke's, held more red than brown. On his face was scrawled a bright, unrestrained smile...and despite how utterly alien the expression would have looked on him, Kyn had no problems imagining his own features arranged in such a configuration, as closely as they resembled each other.

"He had a very compassionate soul," Tarrin continued quietly, sliding a step closer until Kyn could almost feel the heat from the man's body just behind his left shoulder. "It seemed as if there was nobody he couldn't empathize with, nobody who could resist his charms. He was the kind of leader that was loved by his people. It was fortunate that he was not a spoiled child - not spoiled, and that he was not an only child."

As if prompted, Kyn's eyes slid toward the other youth in the painting...and he stared mesmerized at the younger, whole, unblemished visage of Master.

"Jendail had more than enough arrogance for the both of them." A thread of amusement entered Tarrin's voice as it lowered to a more intimate, private tone. "Some had even mistaken him for the heir apparent rather than his older sibling. But he had a streak of pragmaticism and cunning that would have put the headmasters of the merchant guilds to shame. He balanced his brother's sometimes overly affectionate nature well.

"And though you have Vinsen and his wife's features, Kynfaellar Mrr'Thaineson - in your mannerisms? It is Jenner that you bring to my mind."

* * *

Well, as you can see, this is supposed to be just a continuation of the last, really short snippet I uploaded. (Although, I don't know if it really matters anymore, since I've played merry hell with the way all the chapters are organized.) Anyway, on a slightly off-tune note, I've reopened my website with a different look. =) Feel free to visit, and drop a note into the guestbook if you're in the mood. Though I don't have much fiction up there right now, in the future, a rewritten Words Between (some fine-tuning as well as possibly some extra scenes sandwiched in between to do some more fleshing out) and other fiction that might or might not make it onto fanfiction.net will be moseying its way into those pages. 

M'cha Araem - Glad to see you're still around and kicking! I was beginning to wonder if I had badly slipped up with the last chapter when you metaphorically disappeared. =) And thank you so much for all your close readings and suggestions; please, do NOT stop! I'm afraid I don't have my originals handy right now to do the edits (not to mention I'm completely wasted after a 3 hour night) but I do agree with most, if not all, of your notes (can't process it all right now...need sleep). Most were honest mistakes which I'm glad someone caught, and others were stuff that I truly overshot. The other chapters will be edited by tomorrow. =) *laughs* And, once again, you're right on the money with the characterization of the, er, characters. Ok, I'm recycling words again, I really need to go to bed...

Soulshadow - Thank you! laughs If I ever need an ego-boost, mind if I call you up? =P

ola - **a·cer·bic** (-sûrbk) also **a·cerb** (-sûrb) _adj._ 1. Sour or bitter tasting; acid. See Synonyms at bitter. 2. Sharp or biting, as in character or expression: "At times, the playwright allows an acerbic tone to pierce through otherwise arid or flowery prose" (Alvin Klein). **a·cerbi·cal·ly** _adv. _Only for you would I look up a word and go through the laborious process of reformatting it for display on fanfiction.net. =P 

SCWLC - And I can't thank you enough for reminding me of it. Beyond the fact that my ego loves you, but it does help me to gauge how successfully I'm writing Kyn. =) As for the rant, I hope I have staved off another one in the near future with this installment? =P

Trina Ti - Thank you, and welcome aboard! =) grins Don't you just hate logic?

Cosette Crystalline - Heheeh...they all do seem very blase about the existence of Gifts and whatnot, yes? ;) Thank you so much for such a glowing review, and *eep*! I hope your work wasn't impeded too much. Regardless of my own misconduct in school (and the repeated complaints I've been receiving about how my updates are keeping people from work), I would hate to see other people losing sleep on assignments when they don't have to. =P I hope the essay went well, and this time, you have an entire weekend to lay back and enjoy this chapter.


	22. The Words Between: part 18

The Words Between - part 18

There was a moment of numb recognition - and then Kyn felt suddenly, almost physically ill. 

Aftermonths of separation, he had all but forgotten what Master was like - the scuff of limping step and cane, the constant, cloying, acrid scent of burned things, the keen, clear gaze set in a half-ruined visage that could convey grudging approval and the most scathing reproof all in one glance - details that he used to know as well as if they had been his own habits. All of it had faded to an amorphous specter tagged and labeled with an abstract title and unresolved emotions - until now, when it all rushed back to the forefront of his mind with a howl of outrage at the long weeks of neglect.

_ Master is displeased with me. He tried to replace me. And this is where he was born and raised...this was his home. His domain._ He felt like an intruder, delving into matters that were not his to know. It did not matter that the revelations had been forced on him, willy nilly, with or without his consent - Master had not given his real name for a reason. Kyn had not been informed of his origins, and all had been quite deliberately hidden away and never made mention of again. The need to be informed and the guilt of knowing warred against each other, and though he knew Master could not possibly be anywhere near, he couldn't help feeling that the man's wrath would be visited upon him at any moment for his unfaithfulness and intrusion."Who are you?" he whispered.

"An admirer. A friend. A cousin." Kyn felt the man step back, and with the extra space, he ventured to turn, muscles tight, struggling to reassert control over himself. He could almost feel the painting's eyes burning into his back with its blank gaze; with its revival, the man's ghost became an almost palpable presence, a permanent fixture in the corners of Kyn's eyes, just behind his shoulder...always tickling at the edges of his perception but remaining maddeningly out of his senses' full grasp. _ Maybe he has stood here before, even as I am standing here now, examining himself in the portrait..._

"You look almost frighteningly alike," the baron murmured wonderingly, gaze assessing as it flicked to various points of Kyn's form. "And yet, if I were anyone else, unless I knew what to look for, stared at you straight on...I would have never known. Your mannerisms are just different enough to mislead, and with just enough compulsion to make a too-scrutinizing gaze slide past you without enough strength to draw attention to itself - it is most ingenious. But I would not have expected anything less of Jenner."

Kyn stiffened, reminded of the layers upon layers of secrets that could easily smother him if he wasn't more alert. "How _did_ you know?"

Tarrin smiled crookedly and motioned toward the portrait. "Blood speaks to blood, Kynfaellar. I may have never had the skill your brother and uncle had, or even Sen, but I was not completely uninitiated either."

The baron knew the same tricks the duke did, then. Not to the same levels, perhaps, but it was chilling all the same. _Is there no one in this cursed place who does_ not _know all my secrets upon first sight?_ "The fourth tower," Kyn said softly. "The fourth tower was yours."

Tarrin chuckled darkly, sweeping out an extravagant bow as if he were being introduced at a debutante's fete. "It seems silly, does it not? Four boys playing at spells and magic as if they were knights and swordsmen. We were the scourge of the maids and staff! Invasions of rats, bread that didn't rise, items that mysteriously picked themselves up and walked off to inexplicable corners to be discovered months after they were needed...and what made it all the better," he said with a somewhat nostalgic smile, winking at Kyn, "was the fact that nobody knew."

Kyn shifted his weight, feeling uneasiness settle in the hollow pit of his stomach like a lump of stone. A clammy, cold sweat had invaded his palms, and he clenched his hands against a warning tremble, almost half hoping that it was withdrawal that was causing the symptoms rather than a fear that he couldn't control. "Who else knows?" he asked harshly. "Who else knows about me?"

The man hesitated, finally shrugging with a touch of wariness. "Aisner, most assuredly. He was always closest to Vinsen after Jenner, and he would be intimately familiar with your bloodline. He would have known long before I did who you are." Something flickered across his face, an echo of the irritation that had been directed toward the duke when he had first laid eyes on Kyn, but it was gone before anything more could be read. "But anyone else? That is hard to say. You've been disguised well, and many of the old guards and servants are no longer here."

"And who else knows about you? Of what you can do?"

Tarrin shook his head slightly, brows furrowing as he picked his words carefully. "I do not know. It used to be common knowledge when we were boys that we were especially adept at pranks, and that there were the occasional strange goings-on. But we learned to be more...'discreet' as the years passed, and nobody spoke of their suspicions, if there ever were any. Vinsen was well-practiced with his charm by the time we reached a dozen years of age after covering for all of our mistakes, and when we reached our majorities, we began to dabble less and less." He lifted one brow as he peered at Kyn, as if just reminded of something. "In fact, not long after your birth, we locked the towers away completely."

_Not long after your birth. _The words made something inside him tremble, and Kyn hastily banished their echoes from his mind as he forged onwards with his interrogation. If he concentrated hard enough on other things, he wouldn't remember who had lived here - who watched silently, expressionlessly, from behind him. "But you no longer practice the blood arts?"

As he spoke, the faint sounds of soles scuffing across stone echoed down the corridor. Tarrin moved quickly, with a precision that was remarkable for someone who usually projected such an air of graceless foolery. He was fast enough that Kyn nearly didn't catch him, but even as he intercepted the man's hand when it moved for his mouth, the baron was shaking his head in apology. "Forgive me," the man murmured after the footsteps had faded into silence once again without entering the hall, wincing slightly when Kyn gave his hand a warning twist before releasing him. Pulling back and rubbing his wrist, Tarrin continued in hushed tones, "I should have warned you to more caution beforehand considering my casualness with the subject, but people so rarely walk through this section that it did not occur to me until now."

Kyn eyed him suspiciously, unwilling yet to stand down. "How much do you know? What danger do you perceive?"

"Nothing certain," the baron said with all the appearance of regret. "As I said, I was the least adept of us all, used more by the others as a prop rather than a true participant. I know just enough to fool children and the unwary with magician's tricks; little more than sleight-of-hand." He paused, one hand still cradling the other, voice lowering to a furtive, intense whisper as he edged closer with an uneasy glance around. "Kynfaellar, where have you been all these years? Why have you returned? If it is to avenge yourself on Aisner...let it pass. Nothing good can come of it, and I would not see you lost a second time."

Kyn could feel his breath shortening, body unconsciously preparing itself for danger, blood quickening as a hard knot gathered at the base of his skull, throbbing relentlessly with every heartbeat. "What do you mean?" he asked warily, a hand rising in warning for the man to stay at a distance. "What do you know of the duke's activities?"

The baron halted though muscles in his jaw tightened with nervousness, gaze boring into Kyn's as if trying to impress some secret message on him. "I do not know. Though we are distantly related by blood, Aisner and I have never been as close as we would like to fool ourselves into thinking. After the fires, he grew even more withdrawn...I worried, but thought nothing of it until the death of his wife. Ever since then..." He trailed away, but no words were needed. The silence was more eloquent than anything the baron could have articulated.

"What would you see done?"

Tarrin blinked, visibly caught off guard. "What?"

"What would you see done?" Kyn repeated, urgency lending his words a rougher edge than he had initially intended, the ache growing in the back of his head into a far too familiar pain. "Do you wish Se'Fannouel to remain as duke? Do you wish to see his plans completed? Are you sworn to him?"

Tarrin's eyes widened as he shook his head sharply. "No! I mean...it is not as simple as that! I have my suspicions, but no proof. And Sen is powerful; without Vinsen or Jenner to check him..." He sucked in a sharp breath, new hope abruptly surging in his expression as he continued excitedly, "Jenner. I can see Jenner in the way you hold yourself, hear him in your words. I would not be surprised that, if anyone, _he_ managed to survive Belahb and its fires. Where is he?"

Kyn drew back, face and voice cooling rapidly with suspicion even as he busily tried to assimilate all the new information. _Belahb's fires...what happened that night? _"Jenner is beyond your reach."

Tarrin opened his mouth, seemed on the verge of another protest, before understanding began to creep over his expression. "He is dead, then?" he asked softly. Kyn gazed stolidly back and did not correct him, feeling Master's stare on his back. Sighing, the baron drew a hand over his face, faint lines around his eyes and mouth growing more prominent with weariness and resignation. "I suppose it would have been far too easy anyway," he said with a flat, mirthless chuckle, gaze softening before he reached out - gesture slowed by caution - to trace the contour of Kyn's face in the air before it. "After all, we have already been granted several small miracles to see you standing here now, hale and whole, untouched."

Kyn's mouth twisted at the irony. _Not untouched. Not whole, and most certainly not hale._ "You may not consider it a miracle once all of this is finished," he reminded darkly, turning and walking rapidly away. His head throbbed steadily now, and he didn't think he could bear the weight of the silent, painted gaze any longer - not without turning to claw it out of the canvas.

"Kyn, wait!" He stopped, half-turning with an impatient look. "Kyn..." Tarrin began hesitantly, the hand that he had lifted in entreaty drifting back down to his side. "Kyn, I am glad to see you alive and grown," he said quietly, gaze pleading. "I would...I would like to know you better - and to see Lynxfinn's rightful lord restored."

Kyn didn't make the connection at first, staring blankly at the baron, but when he finally did, he nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity of the thought. _Lynxfinn's lord? Me?_ "Then what of the current duke?" he asked with a sly tilt of his head. "Your...cousin, was it?"

"Yes, he is my cousin. Once removed." Tarrin's eyes flinched away guiltily. "He is not an evil man, Kyn. But he has allowed himself to become obsessed by whatever he has planned. I do not believe anymore that Lynxfinn would not come to lasting harm under his direction. Not while knowing what hand he might have had in the deaths that has occurred in this keep."

"Then why did you not stop him yourself?"

The baron's mouth twisted into a bitter smile as he spread his hands in helplessness. "It is clear you do not understand, Kyn. He is far beyond any means I may be able to rally against him. He watches me more closely than any other, knowing that I am aware of just what he is capable of. And who could I turn to without having to admit my involvement with what others frequently term 'the black arts' and face their ignorance? Even if they didn't dismiss me outright - rather than clapping me in irons - they would never listen to my warnings as to how Sen should be handled."

Kyn shifted his weight uneasily, not completely content with the baron's answer but unable to find fault with it for the moment. In the end, all he could do was warn, "Do not look to me for reassurance or solutions. I can provide neither." When the man grimaced and lowered his eyes but did not say more, Kyn left the hall, some vague thought about familiarizing himself with visual markers to supplement the building plans prompting him to pick an alternate route back to the guest rooms. 

Without the baron to focus on, all of the previously suppressed emotions, fears, and uncertainties began to boil up again. He had seen the faces of his father and grandfather. He now knew the name of his mother. There had been hints of details concerning the night that had claimed their lives - claimed them, but not him. What was he supposed to feel? What was he supposed to feel toward a mother and a father he couldn't remember? What was he supposed to feel about their deaths?

What was he supposed to feel toward an uncle who pretended he wasn't?

As Kyn tried to concentrate on the turns and positioning of the corridors in relation to one another, the cold blue eyes of Master seemed to hover around every corner, just out of sight, watching him with the unwavering interest of a raptor about to stoop. Kyn's imagination relentlessly conjured up ghostly images of an arrogant young lord, clothed in the unfaded silks and velvet befitting a station just one step below royalty, striding casually down this hall...pausing at the juncture of that one to issue instructions to a servant...stopping at _that_ window to admire the edge of the gardens visible from there...nodding briefly to an acquaintance as they passed each other in the courtyard...

Kyn halted in mid-stride, squeezing his eyes shut._ If you must drive me mad, then so be it! But give me one more day. Just one._

When there was no reply, he didn't know whether he should feel disappointment or relief.

Opening his eyes gingerly, he took one long look around, sucked in a deep, trembling breath, and then continued up the stairs that led to their floor, halting before the room that Nadia had left her packs in. Knocking twice, he only had to wait a moment before hearing the latch rattle on the other side, and the healer appeared with her mouth opened on a greeting before she registered that it was him. Face immediately closing in on itself, she merely nodded curtly to him without words and stepped aside, allowing him entry.

"Brin and Brianna?" he asked as he walked past her, automatically eyeing the room's dimensions and contents.

"Brin hasn't returned yet," Nadia said, closing the door and remaining near it, arms folded before her. "Brianna is still familiarizing herself with the nearby grounds. As you 'asked' her to," she added the last with a not-so-subtle censure.

Kyn turned his head to eye her questioningly for her tone, but when all he was met by was her stubborn mien, he did not bring the point into the conversation. "Can you maintain me through the night?"

She frowned in puzzlement. "'Maintain' you?"

"I need to explore the keep further."

Genuine surprise flittered across her expression as she asked incredulously, "With no rest? No," she stated flatly.

He turned all the way to face her, clasping his hands behind his back. "Cannot, or will not?"

Nadia frowned thunderously, pointing a finger toward his chest as she stomped over. "If you want to work yourself into the ground, that's your prerogative. But I'm warning you now that you won't last more than a day or two going at that pace."

He tilted his head. "That is all I need. After tomorrow night, nothing else matters."

The sting of the slap didn't register until well after the sound had, though instincts had already captured her wrist before she could finish the swing and draw away. Jerking her close and glaring into her eyes, he gritted, "Why did you do that?"

Hazel orbs were wide but defiant in a pale face, body tensed at the pain of his grip. "I have had enough of this! What is wrong with you?" she hissed. "I do not drain myself daily to save you only to have you drop dead from exhaustion through neglect! I did not ride across half of Valdemar when I still have duties and my bonded back at the collegium to see all my efforts unravel because of your asinine behavior! Now unhand me!" There was a shrillness to her voice, a hint of desperate fury, that made him wince and do as she asked, giving just enough of a shove to separate them by a few steps. Stumbling slightly before regaining her balance, she shook her arm at him, displaying the pale imprint of his fingers that were quickly reddening with the return of circulation. "Look at this! Is this how you treat all your allies? No wonder you must threaten everyone into compliance!" she continued berating, reckless in her fury.

"Healer, desist!" Kyn said, but with less force than he might have liked. Not a little confused by the sudden outburst, he couldn't quite help leaning back slightly, if not outright stepping away from her. Reflex wanted to treat her like a threat, but he still needed her, and somewhere along the way he had stopped believing that she would consciously cause him harm. So now he stood, indecisive and off-balance, wondering what was the quickest way to deflect her temper while still convincing her to help him through the night and the next day. 

"No, I will _not_ desist, I will nolonger put up with your incomprehensible behavior! What is with you, Kyn? Why are you trying to deny your Companion and Companion bond?"

"I am not denying anything!" he snapped, hating the defensiveness in his voice and struggling to regain his aplomb after the unexpected physical and then verbal attack. What did Sianni have to do with anything?

"Yes you are! Brin's Companion contacted _me_ to contact _you _rather than speaking directly through Sianni...that's a fair sign of what is going on, I'd think! She can sicken from this, did you know that? _You_ are sickening from this. If you have no care for yourself, at least have some for her!"

"It does not matter!" he seethed, hands helplessly clenching as he glared at her. Why, why did she choose now of all times to become observant and immovable? Was the entire outburst nothing more than an excuse to bring the Companion into the conversation? "Have you thought of what might happen to her if I allowed her to cleave to me as you wished? And if you have so much care for her, maybe you should convince her to make _you_ her bonded instead!"

"How _dare_ you," Nadia hissed, nostrils flaring with her fury. "Do you think it is something of such little consequence that it could be palmed off like a coin? And even if a Companion _was _able to transfer their bond at will as if it was nothing more than a title, I would! I, at least, would respect and cherish her as she should be respected and cherished. You obviously do not know the meaning of the words!"

He gritted his teeth, surprised that they did not crack at the pressure. There was no point to the conversation; neither of them would budge. He had about two candlemarks left at least, he judged, before he absolutely required her talents. It would probably be best to let tempers cool a bit, then try again later now that he knew what the central issue was and could prepare ways to skirt it. Shrugging in an effort to brush the conversation aside, he struggled to loosen the tight knot of muscles in his shoulders and neck while heading for the door. "She would not want me back anyway," the words slipped away from him before his mind could properly register his mouth's intent. "It is all for the better." His steps shortened with hesitation as what he had said sank in, and a little shiver of confusion slipped down his spine. Where had that come from? A passable excuse, but not one he had planned. Things were becoming more and more muddled in his head... _It's all the healer's fault. Why does she have to dredge the waters like this?_

Nadia's arm snapped out, barring his passage. "How do you know that? Have you - havens forbid - tried _asking_ her opinion on the matter? How can you be so arrogant as to make such a decision for her?"

He stopped, waited one long moment to see if she would move aside, and when she didn't, turned stiffly to stare at her. "It is not possible, so leave the matter be. If you wish to hear a particular answer, say it aloud to yourself, for I will not parrot the words to you simply for your satisfaction."

"No, I will _not_ leave it be when you are being so pig-headed and illogical!" she insisted stubbornly. "Why in the world would she not want you? All she's been doing for over a week is pining after you. I've been talking to Brin, and _his _Companion has had a lot of interesting things to say as to what's been happening. She _Chose _you! How do you know she would not want you if you hadn't bothered exchanging even one word with her in all that time?"

He stared at her for one long moment as something began to creep in around the edges of his irritation, slowly replacing it with bitterness and the metallic tang of futility._ Why is she doing this? Why is she telling me how I should feel, how I should act - why can no one understand that I merely wished to be left along? Just for a little longer...let me finish this much, and then they can argue over what's left afterwards. _He slid a step closer, forcing her to lean back in response, before saying quietly, "I know because I have spent all my life being perfect for Master. He personally trained me to serve him. He controlled every aspect of my development...and in the end, what came of all this?" He tilted his head, expression flat and bleak. "He had to send someone to replace me."

He watched with distant curiosity as Nadia's face alternately flushed and paled as she worked through several responses that died stillborn before they were voiced, and then finally stammered, "I-I don't understand..."

He could not even begin to imagine what his own face might reveal. Emptiness? Bewilderment, at how he had arrived at such a pathetic state? Perhaps even a touch of disgust at what he had just admitted, his control so shaken that he did not even have enough presence of mind to hold his tongue anymore. Did he even fully understand it himself? Would he still be so self-possessed if he did? Should he bare himself even further to possible ridicule? _Well, if you must fail, then fail spectacularly,_ he advised himself with a silent, bitter laugh._ Never settle for mediocrity, Master would say._ And perhaps, if the healer were given something to mull over, she would finally release him from the absurd interrogation. Mouth curling in a humorless smile, he informed quietly, "I could not even fulfill to his satisfaction what I had been trained all my life to be. Think you that I can ever be the Herald that she or any of you wish me to be?" He shook his head slightly, smile abruptly vanishing. "It is best that you realize this now instead of wasting all our times by trying to oppose the inevitable."

"Nothing is inevitable," Nadia protested, though her voice was weak and unconvinced, the reply more reflexive than reassuring. 

_She does not understand. She cannot understand how you've been taken and molded and honed for one purpose alone, and if that purpose is not fulfilled, there is nothing of you left. She cannot understand how miserably you can fail, what an utter disappointment you can be. If, after given all the advantages and training possible, you still fail at your task, what hope can there be for any other that you might attempt?_ Icy blue eyes seemed to stare at him from just behind his left shoulder, weighing and judging, hard with censure and empty of sympathy.

Kyn shook his head abruptly, barely catching himself as the room seemed to sway with the motion, and stepped resolutely around the woman. "Everything is made for a purpose. To deny that is to deny its very definition. Though I perceive that others are disturbed by the purpose I hold to, I will not turn aside, for that would mean I discard the only meaning for my existence. If Master had not had this purpose for me, I would have joined the man and woman that conceived me in the havens over a decade ago. I was saved specifically for this, and I will see to it that I finish at least this much."

Nadia's nostrils flared as she huffed out a breath with a sound of disbelief. "You can't possibly know that! How can you ignore all the possibilities that are literally flinging themselves at you? You're not some...some..._parchment_ to be written on and then thrown away when you've used up! You're...you're..." She spluttered to a stop, one hand unconsciously reaching up to tug on the end of her braid with a moan of frustration. "Ooh, I'm not supposed to be arguing this! I'm no mindhealer, this is Melidee's job..." she groaned with a roll of her eyes toward the ceiling.

There was a warning tremor threading through the muscles in his arms, enough that he was not sure his hands would be steady if he held them out before him. Clenching one tight, he laid the other hand on the door's latch. He didn't have the will or energy to fight the healer's accusations anymore, especially when he wasn't even sure if he was in the right or wrong of it - or even if there was a right or wrong. "Inform me when Brin or Brianna return." Barely a breath's pause, and he added belatedly, "Please," in a last effort to appease her offended sensibilities long enough to escape.

Unfortunately, it only seemed to have the opposite effect as the healer abruptly shook herself as if waking from a daze. "That word doesn't work on me anymore," Nadia asserted flatly, galvanized into action. "Come on; I'm getting to the bottom of this once and for all. We're going to see Sianni."

Kyn sighed, closing his eyes with a grimace and rubbing his forehead. "I am _not_ going to see Sianni."

"Yes we are," Nadia insisted, and the note of inflexible resolution in her voice made him turn warily to see that she had dragged her cloak out of one of her packs, settling it over her shoulders. "You should bring your jacket. It's warmer here than in Haven, but it _is_ settling into the middle of winter."

"I do not think you understand me, Healer," he stated coldly. "I am not going to see her."

"And I don't think you understand _me_," Nadia said, walking up and looking directly into his eyes with a remarkably calm demeanor. "This is neither a request, nor a threat. It is simply a statement of fact."

"I am weary," he played his last attempt at reasoning, allowing his shoulders to bow a little, hoping to incite her healer's instincts into taking pity on him - long enough to slip past. "If I promise to see her tomorrow, will you - "

"No."

He frowned. "You cannot make me speak with her."

Nadia tilted her head, one brow arching. "Perhaps, but I imagine there's nothing holding _her_ back from speaking to you. At least, not now that she's been informed that you are merely being an idiot, rather than avoiding her out of spite."

"You didn't - " he began in angry, disbelieving tones.

"I did," she interrupted with a far too smugly innocent look. "And you really must learn to stop working yourself into these corners, Kyn. You should know by now that Companions really hate resorting to 'Speech with others simply because one of a pair is being mulish, and they tattle worse than a fishmonger's wife if they feel the subject deserving of a little shaking up."

_:Kyn, Chosen, this has gone on long enough. I will not allow you to succumb to your fears. I erred in allowing my hurt to overwhelm my better judgment of who I knew you to be...:_

Her remorse was a sharper pain than any hurt he had ever suffered beneath the keen edge of sharpened steel. Kyn stared, stricken, at Nadia. "Damn you," he whispered, scraping twice at the latch blindly with shaking hands before he could open the door and flee through it.

Nadia's strident voice chased him out into the hall, and he reconsidered his headlong flight toward the stairs to backtrack the three steps to his door, falling through and slamming it closed behind him just in time to lock it against the furious healer. Breaths coming in short, desperate gasps, he wondered briefly at the absurdity of his actions - flying from the slender woman's presence as if she were the duke himself - before a sudden, fierce pounding against the door made him flinch and scattered his half-conceived thoughts from his head. Staring at the wooden panel, it wasn't until the sounds on the other side had died down to mere entreaties that he moved, edging backwards to the bed and sliding gingerly onto it. Tucking his legs close, he curled his arms around them, settling his chin atop his knees so that his eyes could barely peek over them, watching the door warily.

_:Kyn...:_

He trembled, shutting his eyes tightly and tried to ignore Sianni.

_:Stop running. You are only hurting yourself this way.:_

It didn't matter. He _wanted_ to hurt. It reminded him of what he was struggling to accomplish - without the goad of pain, he would languish completely beneath the burden. _:I thought your Heraldic code included something about eavesdropping.:_

_:I'm not eavesdropping. Your shields cannot even be called such anymore.:_

It was because he had lost the pond, the central core of complete stillness and peace into which he could sink and ice over the top, barring out the world. The entire garden was forbidden him, when he had tied it so closely to the gift that someone so desperately did not wish him to access. Left with nowhere to retreat to, his mind skittered from the corner of one restless thought to another, unable to settle in any one of them with any sense of security, much less focus, long enough to build and strengthen shields.

Nevertheless, he was left no option now except to try. He could not fend off Sianni and all the others while concentrating on the duke. Now, while he still had the strength and time, he should settle the matter once and for all.

_:Kyn, things aren't desperate enough yet for you to do anything stupid! Open the door!:_ Nadia's voice abruptly interjected.

He didn't even bother sparing a thread of annoyance for the healer's intrusion. Instead, he blindly groped for the path to the garden while bracing himself for whatever might obstruct it, holding his breath when he staggered through the familiar, wild foliage, feeling as if he would snap at the suspense alone as he waited and waited for a retaliation that...never came. He drew to a halt at the ring of mossy lawn lining the pool's edge. A soundless sob of air left him as he slowly began to realize that thus far, nothing was being withheld from him, and as he stepped forward, he finally began to hope that he would finally be granted some respite...

Except that she was already there. Ghostly white, coat shimmering with the subtle rainbows of a soap bubble, Sianni waited patiently at the pond's right edge, gazing expectantly toward him.

Bitterness and defeat alternately raced through him like a flash fire across dry grass, leave him empty and brittle in their wake. Swaying, he reached out blindly to brace a hand against the dark, rough bark of a willow. "Are you going to deny me even this now?" Kyn whispered desolately.

_:I would deny you nothing. It is only yourself who would withhold anything.: _Sianni took a step toward him and he had to fight the urge to shrink back. _ :Why did you try to drive me away?:_

Kyn swallowed, gathered what little fortitude he had left, and replied hoarsely, "Because I didn't want you."

Another step. _:Do not lie to me, Chosen.:_

What could he say? What would satisfy her? His reasons were myriad, yet he could not give up any one of them to take the blame wholly. They were like a swarm of mayflies - a dark, buzzing cloud that managed to occlude and shadow despite each individual insect's minute size.

_:I deserve an explanation.:_

He laughed humorlessly, pressing back against the tree's crooked bole. "Everyone deserves something. But they are not always so rewarded."

She shook her head with a soft whuff, taking the last few steps remaining between them until, if she extended her neck, she could touch him if she wanted. _:No one can control the hands of fate, but we can control our own. Why this? Why did you do this?:_

He didn't know. He was afraid of changing into something - someone - that he would no longer be able to recognize, even as he tried to change the path of the future from what he had Seen. He wanted the security of knowing that he would always have a place somewhere, even as he shunned any hold on him, wary of the hurt that such power could engender. He wanted to know that what he did now was worth the turmoil that had overcome his life...

Warm breath washed over his face, and he jerked back with a gasp, suddenly realizing that Sianni's nose was barely an inch from his own and wondering how he had missed her movement. _:I apologize, Kyn, for misjudging you. I was confused, because I understood how you were...but hadn't realized that you had changed far more than any of us could have hoped for.:_

Kyn trembled, meeting her summer-sky gaze before squeezing his eyes shut, cradling his head between his hands and trying desperately to merge with the willow tree at his back. "No, you can't, you don't understand, I can't let this happen - "

_:I can't understand if you don't explain, Kyn.:_

"The future changes too quickly," he husked, eyes opening as he dragged his hands down to hide his face, peeking blindly through spread fingers. "And it doesn't change enough. One should never trust that an early vision averted will be enough to ensure a river jumps its banks...if its bed is too deeply worn, it will only find it again downstream to continue as it had..."

_:Focus, Kyn. You only need the answer to but one question, and no more.:_

"I'm trying!" he cried. "But it's all tangled up...Master taught me to choose a fulcrum as close to the end as possible...only then can one be certain that the leverage would not be applied uselessly or blindly! That is why I do not See things until then, until I absolutely need to act. Anything else would only be confusion - " He paused, uncertain, remembering the words and wondering with a slow, sinking feeling if he might have acted wrongly all along.

_:Kyn, you're not making any sense...:_

The soft muzzle brushed across his cheek in gentle distress, lipped at the edges of his hair with an affection that squeezed his heart mercilessly until he thought it would burst. "Try to change future's path too soon," he gasped, "and it might stray only a little before wandering back to what was Seen. The only guarantee is when the key event itself occurs...that is the time when it can be deflected with certainty."

_:And your attempts to drive us apart? That is one of these 'key events'?:_

No...it's only an excuse...

_Silence. And then nothing but a too soft, too gentle, _:I'm sorry,:_ and Sianni turned away from him -_

She was unhinging him. He thought he would be able to face that particular scene when it came, but now he knew that part of his avoidance of her had not only been an attempt to distance them, but to avoid what his Foresight had shown. He wouldn't be able to survive being discarded again.

_:What was that?!:_ Sianni snorted, jerking back with wide eyes, mane tossing with the furious motion. _:I would never abandon you!:_

And Master...he couldn't cease dwelling on the man! Kyn could feel his master's presence _everywhere_...he had already been ruined by Master, and Sianni was standing here foolishly trying to make some sort of point and dismissing all his warnings... "You have too!" he rasped, pushing away from the tree. Was he going mad?

_Would it be so terrible if you were?_

"I don't See you...you weren't there, I didn't _See_ you there..." He stumbled toward the pond, eyes fixated on the dull, oily sheen of its dark surface. He had to See...he _had_ to know what would happen, he couldn't make any decisions anymore without the surety of knowing what was in store in the future...

_:Chosen, what is the matter? What has happened to you - Nadia!:_

Distantly, his body registered the sound of renewed pounding on a door. Distantly, he noted the tinge of panic in Sianni's 'Speech, the fractured dance of her shadow flickering in the edges of his vision as she sought to recapture his attention. And for a moment, he didn't think of the man - his uncle, a duke's brother, his blood relative...

The pond. He fell to his knees before it, mouth stretching in a tremulous smile as he reached out and sank his hands into the waters.

Bliss. Chill and numbing, it cooled the frantic, fevered pace of his thoughts, and his eyes closed with the welcome sensation, missing it so desperately - he had forgotten what peace felt like. He leaned forward, ready to let it claim him completely...

Something threaded its fingers through his beneath the waters.

Clasped his hands tight.

He opened his eyes - and saw the flat blue gaze of Master staring back at him.

* * *

Wow. I had three, _completely_ different versions of this chapter written up, I swear. But none of them really jived with me, and so I kept rewriting and rewriting...and this was the final result. (And believe you me, I had_ no_ idea it would end this way...it just popped out of the blue fully-formed 3 hours ago.)Phew.

Thank you, reviewers. Know that your efforts are all _very _much appreciated; you are all that keeps this story going. =) 

Pleeai - Welcome aboard! Thank you - that helps to ease my mind. Well, up until I haveta write him again. =P

ardent - grins Hints received. ^_~

RonethDragon Tiamat - And you think correctly. Just one more night and more day to get through!

bunny angel - Slightly less insane? o.O* But...but...where's the fun in that?! grumbles What I do for my - I mean Kyn's - fans...

Magdellin - O.O Eep...not good...though, I really can't say anything, because the few (yes, really, it was few! relatively...) times that I did such a thing too was awfully fun... Bah, if you think you sound like an idiot...well, I hope you're not offended if I say that I don't mind if you continue talking like one. ^_~ Only so long as those compliments keep coming in my direction...

But seriously, thank you very much for such extravagant praise. It's helped perked up many a gloomy-looking day. And...hangs head yes, you've caught me. It's supposed to be "Brin." However, not only am I typing "Kyn" all the time (and the 'y' then plays truant and sneaks over toward Brin) but the speller also appears to favor "Bryn" more. Thus, the poor boy gets mixed up sometimes. I noticed that mistake a couple of weeks back, but I haven't had time (or remembered yet when I _did _have time) to go back and fix that up.

Katriana - I will definitely keep the different types of trainees in mind as I'm writing; thanks for pointing that out. (The only problem with retroactively applying the distinction is that - well, thus far, I don't remember referencing anyone _but_ heraldic trainees yet. =P So rather than saying 'heraldic trainee' all the time, I'm taking the shortcut, though I definitely think I can stick in a few more "blues" instead of merely "trainees". Thanks for pointing that out.) As for the mages...winces and hides head in shame Yes, I must admit I've been skirting that issue thus far. Main problem is that my memory's fuzzy around the area of their gradual reestablishment and stuff. In fact, I was hoping to quiz someone soon on the whole affair with that Karsite acolyte and the crop circles - I mean, the change circles that were some leftover magic from Urtho's time (I think? Did I get that much right, at least?) and yadda yadda yadda...ah-hem, someone please ship me my brain C.O.D. if it's found...

M'cha Araem - falls over, fanning herself Y'know, after a review like that, I almost didn't want to write anymore because I'm sure it can only go downhill from there...but I decided I had to at least make the effort. =P Hrm. As for the whole story behind the family...part 11a, I think? The last section? I'm having a hard time keeping a track of my own writing now...

Cosette Crystalline - Yup. Like I said, that one section (that's now labeled 17a) was holding the whole thing up, and once that was out, everything else could follow. And yup, I'm afraid I'm evil that way. I want to make sure you're all staying awake with me as this part of the story eventually draws to a close. =P

SCWLC - Raolian is. =) Which gets somewhat explained here...I admit I had not placed as much of an emphasis on that aspect of Companion culture than I probably should have, and you gave me a good reminder of it. Kantor's direct 'speech slid by Kyn's attention the first time due to ignorance, but he's caught on by now. I'll be watching how I write those parts in the future (if they ever pop up again) very closely.

Well, there's a bit more dialogue now, though I don't know if it's up to snuff. =P Here's to hoping it's satisfactory.


	23. The Words Between: Interlude

The Words Between - Interlude

The first time Kyn glimpsed the future, he had not known what he had seen. Concentrating hard on what form was supposed to come next in the choreography his sword instructor had just taught him, he had reacted instinctively to block the sudden swipe of the blunted practice blade from the side - only to meet empty air. He barely had time to blink in surprise before his instructor finished his overhand swing to rap him sharply over the left shoulder, ending practice for the day with a dislocated joint. When Kyn had diligently recited what had happened to cause his distraction, the man dismissed the incident as inattention, and Kyn had readily agreed, knowing little else that could explain the apparent hallucination.

The second time occurred over a month later. Master had asked him to retrieve some books and glassware from an upper floor, and having had trouble locating some of them, he had hurried down the stairs, conscious of the time that had passed while searching. There were still a dozen steps left before he would reach the ground floor when he _saw_ his Master suddenly swing around the blind corner - too late for him to avoid running into the man as he took the last step off the staircase, sending the both of them and his burdens tumbling to the ground. Kyn had reacted before conscious thought could catch up - that he was still halfway up the last bend in the staircase rather than at its bottom. Jerking aside, he missed the edge of the next step and sent himself tumbling the rest of the way down anyway, albeit missing Master this time when the man, forewarned, stopped short of the mess of books, broken glass, and Kyn rolling by. That was when Master found out about Kyn's developing talent.

While others taught Kyn his physical skills, Master oversaw his mental development personally, and the lessons in history, writing, deportment, and other subjects were neatly reshuffled to include training in Foresight. Kyn was taught to recognize vision from reality, to track what tended to trigger a foreseeing and what its range in time was, to learn where and when to act upon it. Beyond the most predictable exercises that arose in an attempt to control the Gift's more disorienting aspects and to help him draw as much useful information out of it as possible, there was one other experiment that they frequently conducted, but which they were never able to develop a full-proof technique for - to consciously trigger a foreseeing. They knew that it concentrated solely on events that affected Kyn personally, that the visions tended to fall in the short-term, with extremes being between a week or a mere sliver of a second. They knew that the Gift was infuriatingly fickle, dangerously undependable, and that it should never be considered with any sort of pre-conceived expectation. Master had once remarked with a dark, sardonic chuckle, that it was a blessing Kyn could not grow too bored from always knowing what was about to occur.

Still, they had managed to garner enough information to know that, if something momentous was about to occur and if Kyn focused on the right associations - much like how repeating a refrain will sometimes bring the entire song out of memory, or how a well-known object can draw the distant vision of Farsight - _sometimes _a foreseeing would cooperate and grudgingly release some hints of what was to come, if not unveil completely the vision that would have fallen upon him later. Perhaps it was merely coincidence that timed the glimpses with the efforts, but Master was not a man to admit that something was completely beyond his ability to control. And so they had tried various substances, methods, and meditations, and while they never found an ideal combination, there seemed to be enough success to goad Master into continuing the effort.

The pond - the grounding - had, in a way, made the approach easier. When Kyn could not hold tightly enough to the train of names, links and occurrences for the time it took to coax his Gift out - which was more often the rule than the exception these days - the calm was sometimes enough to push a foreseeing into the open. It was for that anchor that he had reached for in the pool, that freedom from the chaos of outside stimuli and his own scattered thoughts that he had hoped would be the last ingredient needed to free his erratic talent.

Instead, it had freed something else, and as Kyn froze for that one horrifying, heart-stopping moment, gazing into Master's face - he suddenly realized that perhaps Master's lessons on how to utilize the Gift had not been based solely on extraordinarily lucky guesswork. That, perhaps, the man had not always required pure magic to keep tabs on Kyn's activities - that they might share more than just blood.

_If Master possesses Foresight too...then what has _he_ Seen?!_

* * *

_:Chosen, why is it we can never seem to carry on a serious heart-to-heart conversation without you or the rest of the world trying to put an end to it?:_

_...what?_

_:My apologies for this sort of...'brute force' handling. It's just that I have grown tired of the constant circling, and it has become quite obvious that this matter will never settle on its own.:_

_What...what happened?_

_:What do you remember?:_

_There was...I was...disoriented. I couldn't think clearly. I was looking for the garden..._Master! Master had found me!

_:Peace, Kyn. Your master is not here.:_

_I saw him! You can't keep me from him; where is he?!_

_:Keep _you _from him? Or keep _him_ from you?:_

_I...stop changing the subject._

_:You have to make a decision, Kyn. Several decisions, actually, but this is the most important one right now. Will you continue to merely be an extension of your master, or finally accept the gift of life that you were given?:_

_You are using loaded words._

_:Can you blame me for trying to make sure you lean my way? Regardless, you are an intelligent _individual_, Kyn. Everything you have done up till now has shown me that. If you weren't, you wouldn't be caught in this quandary in the first place - you would have blindly followed whatever you felt your master wanted you to do and never felt a single doubt. But, however despicable I think the man is - I have to admit that he has prepared you well.:_

_Prepared me for what?! Did he See this, is this why he set up such an elaborate plot? I know of nothing! He has told me nothing! None of this is of any consequence anyway...he has no more use for me._

_:On the contrary. He does not seem to be a man who would invest so many resources in someone only to abandon them at the very end with no contingency plans to salvage all that effort. And have you never wondered why he insisted that you study literature alongside blades?:_

_...I do not understand._

_:No, you are just being stubborn. Stop avoiding him, Kyn! If you can't even confront him in your own mind, how do you ever hope to accomplish anything?:_

_What if I do not _wish_ to accomplish anything more? What if I wish to be far away from here and let you all rot in your own schemes?_

_:But you are _here_. Of your own volition.:_

_I can just as easily change my mind!_

_:You would not. You are like _him _in that respect. Once committed, you would not abandon a task you had set yourself. Now let us return to the original question: are you your own person, or will you remain your master's shadow?:_

_I...I don't want to make anymore decisions._

_:You have to.:_

_I can't choose!_

_:You can, and you will.:_

_And what if I choose to remain faithful to Master?_

_:Then I will mourn. And I will wait. And when I feel you are ready, I will ask you the question again.:_

_...why. Why would you do such a thing. To wait...hopelessly..._

_:Not hopelessly. You might have the Gift of Foresight, Kyn, but I _know_ you. And, if you would only allow yourself to admit it, you know me in the same way. You should know better than to try and convince me that I should behave otherwise.:_

_I...you shouldn't have Chosen me, Sianni. What you are asking of me...the bond you wish to have with me...I can't grasp it. I can't understand it. It is like...like when I was standing in that corridor, staring at that painting - that was my _father _smiling back at me. My _father!_ He looked like a kindly man, and the baron seemed to confirm this...and I felt nothing. I couldn't even begin to imagine what this 'love' that a child should feel for a parent is like, what all the books say and imply. I did not even feel anger at knowing he had most likely been murdered by Se'Fannouel. What drives me to stop the duke is completely extraneous to that event. What sort of son can be so empty?_

_:And you cannot imagine how relieved I am that you are not charging recklessly forward, blinded by hate and revenge. You should not base your reactions on what other people's are, or what you think they should be. I would imagine that it is hard to find attachment for someone who is, essentially, a stranger, especially when you have had as dominant a figure as your so-called 'Master' in your life.:_

_...Master. My uncle. He told me to call him 'Master'. And I obeyed him as if he were one._

_:It is in the nature of people to find comfort in the most stable elements in their lives, regardless of the healthiness of the attachment. It is especially hard when all other sources of comparison have been taken away, as in your case. The man knew how to keep you under control.:_

_I...I can't betray him, Sianni. He...perhaps, in your mind, he might have done evil things. But he saved my life - _

_:For his own purposes.:_

_- he _saved_ me! He saved my life, and gave me another one. One that might not have been as happy as some others, but I was content._

_:It is not hard to make someone more than content, Kyn, at least some of the time. He did not even try.:_

_He may not have, but he could have left me behind! And no matter what he has done lately, no matter what I have discovered, I _know_ who he is, I _know _the man that raised and taught me for as long as I can remember, and I will _never _replace him regardless of what future affiliations I might make...stop feeling so smug about yourself. You were waiting for me to say that, weren't you?_

_:Not exactly that, but close enough. It's not a betrayal, to learn to think and decide for yourself. The only betrayal - to him, and to yourself - would be if you were to forget the lessons you learned from obeying him...and defying him. And if that man is half as smart as he acts like he is, then he would know that it would be useless to try and hold you back at this point.:_

_...this could all be pure speculation._

_:Does it matter? Do we read books and study history for what the message the author or enactors 'might' have intended when they were recorded? Or do we read and study them to enlighten ourselves? In the end, they only have as much meaning as we choose to give them. Otherwise, they are merely a collection of symbols drawn in a regular order.:_

_It's still hard._

_:I would be worried if it weren't. In your mind, though you never called him one, and he would never allow you to think of him in that respect...your uncle acted, in part, the father to you. He was unnecessarily cruel, but he made sure you would be able to survive, even without him. You said you didn't know how a child should feel toward a parent? The attachment you feel and the reluctance to leave it..._that_ is very normal.:_

_What of your parents, Sianni? What do you feel toward them?_

_:...that is a difficult question, Kyn. Emotions are never easily described.:_

_Then show me. Who are your parents, Sianni?_

_:You should not linger upon that question; you are in a unique position that few find themselves in. You can choose who to accept as part of your family, rather than having them chosen for you by the happenstance of birth.:_

_And you are avoiding the issue._

_:I am not.:_

_Yes, you are. I _know_ you._

_:Ha! Think you're so smart now once you've got your little domestic dispute sorted out? ...what is it?:_

_Where is he? I remember seeing him, _feeling_ him grab my hands...but now..._

_:It was only a hallucination, most likely caused by the withdrawal.:_

_I have not hallucinated before._

_:Nadia says it can happen. Those that frequently inhale the powder made from a cannus stem and try to stop suddenly have been known to hallucinate. Since we know nothing of the mixture the duke gave you, it seems the most logical explanation.:_

_Despite a single dose?_

_:You've been drugged nearly all your life. It is hard to discern exactly what effect something would have on you.:_

_And Nadia has...?_

_:She said, if you really wanted to, you could stay up the entire night skulking about like a burglar or yodeling to the moon with the latest healing session she just gave you. But she also mentioned that she'll be sleeping in due to said healing session, and will be in no mood to pick up whatever pieces are left when you crash in the morning. That was not an exact quote, by the way.:_

_I would have been disappointed in her otherwise._

* * *

Yes, it might seem horribly out of place. Yes, it most likely doesn't make any sense. Yes, some things might appear to have been explained a little too patly...but have you ever known me to take the easy way out even if it were shoved down my throat? =P This *does* have its own place - and as the 'title' suggests, we'll be heading back to our irregularly scheduled programming next chapter.

P.S. I'll be lumping the responses to the reviews with the next part! (Well, except that I do have to mention that the idea for all this sprang directly from SCWLC's comments - I'll respond in full in the next part when I'm more coherent.) This literally sprang out of nowhere at 2 am after 4 hours of sleep, and though I don't think it likely to happen - who knows? I might read it again with my head screwed on straight and decide to delete the whole darned thing. =P


	24. Intermission II

looks shame-faced Yes, I'm still alive, and yes, I still plan on finishing this monster. However, I don't *quite* have the next chapter ready yet. My sincerest apologies. A little update on what happened:

I managed to land myself a summer internship in all of 5 days (3 days before my finals began). In another state. With a start-up company. The end result? I was trying to cram an entire summer's worth of preparations (as in overhauling the family business' network, straightening out some school administrative stuff, etc.) in all of a week before I was dragging my butt out over a 17 hour drive up north. Woohoo! Beyond that, since it's a start-up company, it's both exciting as all heck, and very time-consuming. No set hours - you just get done what you have to get done.

Thus, I present my excuses for why I don't have anything new up. However! One unexpectedly bright side is that the family I'm staying with has DSL...but it hasn't worked in all the time I've been there (at least, not so far). This has the unusual side effect of boring me to death when I'm at home and didn't take any work with me - I'm hoping to use some of those empty hours to finally get all this wrapped up. Wish me luck!

(Anyone want to start a betting pool as to when I'll actually have the next part up? =P)

BTW, a *HUGE* thank you to all the people who responded to my plea for help!!! I received several copies of the missing section, and it has now been uploaded. I am now trying to be much more careful with my versions. =P

Finally, I wanted to at least get some responses out to the reviewers to let them know they've been 'heard', even if I have been playing 'possum. =)

**bunny angel: **beams ^_^

Oh, now, I can't really say...yet. ^_~ But you're on the right track.

on your second review: Yes, he was. Except he didn't quite make it to that point.

**ola: **My sincerest apologies. If it makes you feel any better, I have to review my own work as well these days before I can head off with a new part because I've forgotten so many details. o.O*

eeps and cowers and offers a cookie Don't eat me, please? I promise to finish, honest!

Happy to oblige. =) re:definition 

on your second review: Thank you! And at your request, it's staying up. =) (Yes, I was beginning to get quite impatient with the pair myself...)

**SCWLC: **Hehehhe...aren't they fun? =) And thank you so much for your comments! 1) I didn't know how well I was contrasting Kyn's character with how he was and how he is now, but your first 'paragraph' has reassured me a bit on that point. It's important that others can see his loss of assurance and control. 2) You also brought up a point that I've been keeping in the back of my mind but which I had *thought* was somewhat clear, but which I see now is not. As mentioned in the interlude, its existence came about solely due to your review (in particular, the point addressed in the second and third 'paragraphs'). =) I don't know if I actually made it any clearer in the interlude, but...I've pretty much said all that I'm going to say on the matter in there, and the reason is that the narrative is so tightly focused on Kyn's character that there is not enough perspective (_*he*_ doesn't have enough perspective) for me to include anything more on the subject. Does that make any sense? I hope so, because I've run out of other ways to express it at this hour of the workday...my apologies. =P

on your second review: My sincerest gratitude. I *do* try to keep as close to cannon as possible, and I truly appreciate your efforts in pointing out the inconsistencies. And thanks for pointing that out! Yes, it was an unintentional redundancy. I should remember to upload a revision. But otherwise, please continue to point out any etymologies of words that I appear to be misusing. One of my fascinations with the English language concerns word roots, and while I might not be that good at it yet, I do love learning about them.

**melissa :** Eep! The threat of disconnection or of bodily-prying-away-from-computer seems to be something that many people suffer from. o.O* I'm sorry I haven't been able to get something out for you, but your enthusiasm is encouragement enough for me to try and squeeze out the rest of the rough draft tonight. =)

**WingsofJade:** laughs You'll have to stand in line; I've got dibs on the first one off the assembly belt. =P And nope, it's not done yet! So stay tuned.

**Rei Kobayashi:** They did. And they're supposed to. Mannerisms change with the environment; he's been taught to blend in. =) However, you did prompt the thought that it might have been a little more drastic than I'd intended; I'll be rereading the old stuff later to check that out. (Though, personally, I know that the language that I use in the office and the one I use while amongst high school friends is even more drastically different than the examples in here. =P)

on your second review: LOL! My apologies for all your trials and tribulations. =) But, at least there's more to look forward to, neh? ^_~ (Yes, I love stringing people along...) And thank you very much for your offer to beta. What usually happens with my writing is that I reread it so much that the only reason why I throw it online at all in the end is that I get so tired of revising it. o.O* What I'm planning on doing is going back and reworking everything from the beginning for posting on my own website; making things more polished, more consistent, taking into account reviewers' comments that I had received along the way, and perhaps even adding extra scenes/parts. Would you be interested in "beta'ing" in that respect? If not, don't worry about it. =) 

**drunkenfairy:** laughs That's good to hear! ^_^ Thanks much

**A'kari:** Your opinion matters *very* much to me. This story wouldn't even exist without your review and everyone else's; honest. I've almost never finished a story out of the dozens and dozens that I've started, simply because I get bored with it after plotting out the entire thing in my head. But the readers' responses have been constantly pushing me on and now I can say with assurance that I will be finishing up my first long work ever. Thank you for your encouragement, and in the future, I hope you'll be willing to read my works again - only this time, on printed paper rather than on the web. =P

**Absynthe:** Thanks! And I'm working toward it...slowly... =P

**Magdellin:** holds hands up in surrender Ok, I won't! =)

*Eep!* What in the world are you doing up that late/early in your condition?! o.O* Well...if nothing else, I hope the long haitus from updates has allowed you to get some real rest. =P And congratulations! Please take care of yourself, and let me know how you're doing.

**Yo:** Tantris? Sorry, I couldn't even remember who that was until you placed him as being in Vanyel's time, so I think it's a pretty safe bet I wasn't referring to him. ;) May I ask what aspect of the story/which character reminded you of Tantris?

**Cosette Crystalline:** Heh! Most likely a combination of the two. ;) I know the feeling well. gives you a cookie And you're right on the button. =) Thanks, and I hope I continue to surprise you! (Or, at least, *almost* surprise you.)

**Akari:** Thank you. =) And as you can see, I've since uploaded the missing section. ^_^

**Faeriesinger:** Thanks, and the missing section is now up. =)

**Maischeph-Vanscrilla-Black:** Wow. o.O* I must say, I am (almost literally) overwhelmed by your response(s)... laughs Thank you so much for going through all that effort, and I will try to get out the next section as fast as possible. Yes, I do like some rap (including some of Eminem's) and no, I'm not Buddhist. =)


	25. The Words Between: part 19a

The Words Between - part 19

The ceiling was comprised of a smoother, lighter stone, cut into smaller blocks, but otherwise, Kyn might have mistaken it for that of his room in the manse. However, the fall of the shadows was another matter, as was the smell and the feel of the air. The window was also on the wrong side - moonlight streamed in, unabashed, managing to illuminate even the farthest corners in a flat, silverine cast. Out of the corners of his eyes, Kyn could catch the bare hints of a golden complement, perhaps a candle from its limited influence.

He slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, catching the edge of the covers before they slid down his body completely, a hand rubbing absently over the soft, tight weave of the single sheet and the rougher textures of the two blankets on top. He was clad in a sleeping shirt, and from the feel, a pair of matching leggings.Lifting his head, he saw the door a little to the left, centered in the wall. A chair had been propped underneath the latch at an angle to prevent someone from forcing the door from the other side, and the jamb itself around the lock looked oddly distorted, but he could not make out the details in the wan light.

Turning a little farther, he found Brin sitting half-slumped in another chair at a desk before the window, head propped up between his fists, listing dangerously to the side with eyes closed, saved only by the table's edge. Between the trainee's elbows lay an open book.

Kyn took two deep breaths to clear his mind and then rubbed his eyes, pressing in the heels of his hands until phantom splotches of color burst behind his lids. He could distantly recall arguing with Nadia and then running into the garden - no, that wasn't quite right. He had turned into the room instead, and _then _there was the garden, and then Sianni, and then...

For once, he would like to wake up in the clothes that he had dressed himself in.

He opened his eyes, fingertips trailing slowly down from his forehead and over his face, dipping and rising with the features in its path. He could feel her - had the vague impression of soft bedding underfoot, warm braziers and a full belly. It was as frightening as it was comforting; he had enjoyed her presence for a brief time, until he began to realize he depended on it and that it could be taken away. In the end, he thought he believed that she would not leave - at least, not voluntarily as his vision had shown - but there was still a small, irrational fear huddled in the far corner of his mind. And he had not Seen her in the time that comes later.

_You do not See everything. Your having been Chosen without your foreknowledge only proves that beyond a doubt._

_Is it really worth losing what time you have left with her for fear of that break?_

_I can't stand being discarded once more..._

_:It is alright to fear, to be uncertain. It is alright to have moments of weakness - even the most fearsome drake, the fastest gryphon, the strongest man must occasionally rest, or risk exhaustion and failure.: _He flinched reflexively from the unexpected intrusion, but almost before his frustration with his own reactions could rise Sianni had soothed his thoughts into the comfortable lull that he had woken to. _:See what you've been missing all this time?:_ she teased mercilessly as the unnoticed tension slipped out of his muscles.

_:Your insufferable cheekiness?:_ he retorted, squinting past the half-shuttered window at the crescent moon, a slender fingernail's paring dangling precariously from the night's fabric by a corner. Despite the caustic connotation of the words themselves, their delivery contained no real spleen. His thoughts felt oddly sluggish - no, _reluctant _- while at the same time, his head felt clearer than he could ever remember. It was as if all the cares and worries that had so plagued him in the last few weeks had been stuffed in a lockbox in some far corner of memory - its presence was known, but distant, with no bearing on the present, and he felt not the slightest urge to remedy that. _:What did you do to me?:_

He could feel her shifting her weight, the skin over one rump twitching at some imagined itch - and the question of how he came about that knowledge brought only the vaguest afterthoughts of concern. _:Nothing that shouldn't have occurred on its own, though I'll have to give Nadia a considerable amount of credit. If you feel like you're lying on a bed of clouds right now - actually, I _know_ you do - it is, in large part, due to her efforts. We are a little more sensitive to each other than we'll eventually settle into, but it is not too unexpected. I think of it as a temporary overcompensation by a long-neglected bond.:_

He frowned, gaze dropping back down to the covers, fingers rubbing fitfully at the fabrics as if testing their solidity and his sense of touch before thoughts of Nadia brought his attention to the door. _:I remember locking the door. How did she get in?:_ One brow twitched upwards as he finally realized why the chair was needed as a brace - the door had been forced, and the reason why the jamb looked so odd was because someone had tried to push the splintered wood back into place. _:What happened to it?:_ he ammended.

_:Brianna did,:_ Sianni said with more than a hint of an arch in her neck, chin nearly tapping her chest in her amusement. _:From all reports, she was already in a fine temper by the time she returned from a circuit of the grounds, and welcomed the chance to vent some of her frustrations - to the detriment of the duke's decor. Thank goodness they decided to put you in a less-frequented wing of the keep. If the servants had caught her at it, I do believe they would have called the guards on her - and I would not have blamed them, considering her enthusiasm at the time.:_

A corner of his mouth curled upwards irrepressibly. His curiosity over what the guardswoman's temper was like when she was well and truly riled nearly overpowered his sense of relief that he had been unconscious by the time she had made an appearance. Almost.

But thoughts of how he had managed to miss the entrance of the others also brought to mind what had just occurred before, and he drew his legs to himself, wrapping his arms around them and staring over his knees broodingly, trying to deny the shiver that crawled down his spine.

_:It was a hallucination,:_ Sianni reiterated with a warm nicker of comfort. _:Nadia would apologize for neglecting you, I think, if you were just a little less irritating.:_ He had grown so used to the second-hand insults that his brows barely twitched and Sianni continued blithely on without pausing a beat._ :I received the distinct impression that she had been badly startled by the condition she found you in when she finally laid hands on you; there was a touch of remorse there, for letting your differences keep her from monitoring you more closely. Sleep. I will guard your dreams tonight.:_

He did not refute her words - but only because he had no evidence to present beyond a hunch and paranoia. It had felt so _real_...in the way that the real world - or what he assumed this to be - was real, not like the way the landscapes he created in his head were real. There was a subtle difference - one on which he relied to tell future-seeing from present. It was not full-proof, but it was good enough that he felt he had not made a mistake in this case. _But does it really matter, what it felt like when Master's hands - two _good_ hands - grasped yours?_ No. This episode, at least, seemed to have passed without incident, and he had enough to deal with without borrowing further trouble. _ :Why is Bryn here?:_ he asked as he fastidiously tugged on the undersheet, smoothing out some wrinkles in preparation to lying back down.

_:Brianna wanted to keep her appointment with the guardsmen from the gate, but didn't feel comfortable leaving you alone. Since Nadia has assured her that you were out of immediate danger from yourself and no other threat had produced itself, she left Bryn to provide watch until she gets back.:_

"How thoughtful of her," he mumbled beneath his breath, narrowing his eyes at the boy, the open book, and the candle. From the length of the wax - melted nearly all the way down, slumped over and leaning, much as Brin was doing - and the lack of activity that could be observed in the other portions of the keep, the boy had been watching over him for quite some time now. It was long past the evening meal. _:What excuse was made for my absence?:_

Sianni, following the train of his thoughts with the occasional feather-light brush, knew immediately what he was referring to. _:Simply the truth. That you were feeling poorly. May I add that the duke is truly despicable? He did not even have the grace to act surprised. Merely made some sympathetic noises and invited the others to begin eating as soon as Mennifei, her little posse of followers, and Brin arrived at the table.:_

Vague feelings of appreciation for the efficiency of this type of communication was replaced by perplexity as he ran her words through his mind twice more. _:Where is Mennifei right now? Brin was with her until the meal?:_

_:As far as Brin has been able to tell up until he dozed off, she has been sleeping peacefully in her chambers.:_ Sianni snorted and rubbed her nose against a foreleg to relieve an itch. _:And yes, he had been. I think he's found a new appreciation for her, though the poor boy seems rather confused by it all.:_

Kyn cast a perplexed look toward the boy in question, feeling his eyebrows crawl upwards. _:I beg your pardon?:_

_:He didn't have any problems slipping himself into her good graces. In fact, from all reports, _she_ was the one who invited him to accompany her as soon as she recognized who he was. To the irritation of several of her followers, might I add. It appears that she directed her attention at Brin to nearly the exclusion of all else.:_

His eyebrows snapped back down in a frown, and he unconsciously turned his head slightly toward the left - in a direct line to where Sianni was stabled, if there had been no walls between them._ :I don't understand.:_

_:The girl may be shallow, but she's no fool. She knows there's something more involving all of our appearances than merely her father's invitation. She had been steadily - and with remarkable subtlety - interrogating Brin for details and information all day, trying to piece it together. He found it an interesting challenge trying to fend her off, even with that wide-eyed innocent look of his.:_

Kyn closed his eyes and let his head fall back with a sigh as he considered her words. _:How close is she to coming to the truth of matters? And how will she react?:_

_:She has not figured it out yet, and I honestly don't know if she will anytime soon. She may have curiosity working for her, but she's not ready to face certain things yet. And I do not know how she will react.:_

_:How smart do you think she is?:_

Wryly, _:She is a Se'Fannouel, after all. But consider this - why do you suppose she was enrolled at the collegium?:_

He grimaced, attempting to follow her line of logic - and finding to his surprise that it was actually quite easy, the subliminal murmur of half-formed thoughts as readily detected and interpreted as actual Mindspeech. Wonderingly, he tested the new discovery, stringing the suppositions together as they formed for her perusal - much as he had done in another life and time for someone else.

_"What do you see, boy?"_

_Kyn obediently stared at the painting, concentrating, squinted until the muscles at the corners of his eyes twitched, focused so intently on the task that when the man asked the question again, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Shaking his head sharply to cover the flinch, he reported tentatively, "I don't know."_

_"You do not know?" Drag-_thunk_. Drag-_thunk_. A waft of herbs and sickness heralded the sweep of Master's sleeve as the man reached around and nudged his chin. Kyn swallowed, meekly allowing Master to adjust his head so that he faced the family portrait directly, trying to ignore the dry, callused feel of rough scars brushing the sensitive skin of his neck. "A blind man would be able to tell me more than you do now," Master said scathingly. "He would explore the frame, tell me its dimensions, perhaps explain the artisan's strokes and techniques if he were particularly skilled at interpreting the texture that the paint dried into. But what can you - you, who can lay claim to the fullest extent of your faculties - what can you tell me?" A soft, derisive snort. "Only of your own ignorance."_

_Kyn flinched again, muscles in his arms and back and jaw tightening, before he ground out with only the thinnest veneer of control, "I see a family. Posing for a portrait. The Assani family, which you had me study two days ago."_

_"Better." The word was given grudgingly, a prod rather than an encouragement, and Master drew back just far enough to allow Kyn to breath once more, but not so far that the man's presence could be forgotten. "But still far less than what is expected of you. I will ask once again - what do you see, boy?"_

_Kyn felt his breaths shorten, the pace of his heart rise, a tremor start deep in his muscles from the rush of adrenaline, a prickle of sweat just beginning on his forehead and palms and armpits. All signs of rising anxiety that his instructor in wrestling had taught him to watch for, but which he was not quite able to control yet. At least, not when in the presence of Master. "I - " He winced at the threadiness of his own voice, and coughed to hide his nervousness and embarrassment while knowing that he fooled no one with the act. "I see..." he tried again, and though the words were firm and clear this time, he could add nothing else to them, and his voice once again languished into silence._

_The disappointed sigh that sounded behind him had him dropping his head in shame, hands clenching into fists at his sides. Before he could sink completely into despair however, the presence at his back leaned close and whispered an unexpected reprieve. "One last chance, boy...what do you _not_ see?"_

_He almost didn't hear the difference. The tone of the voice - smooth and coaxing, rather than the harsh remonstrance he had expected - had been surprising enough that he nearly missed the words themselves. But some remote corner of his mind that was paying more note than his consciousness was flagged his attention, and his gaze snapped back to the painting. He searched the solemn figures, and something in his demeanor made Master add with a hint of approval, "Tell me your thoughts. Explain your reasoning."_

_"The Assanis," he began, his voice beginning soft and weak but gaining in fervor as he began to gather the clues. "They were counted as minor nobles. The family gained more fame for their insular traditions than their status as lords and landholders. This particular generation lived almost a century before. There is Anielle, her brothers Jordin and Manniel, with their parents Kaina and Berkin. Beside them sits Seenia, the wife of Berkin's brother, Johrsh, holding her infant son, Lorn. He was her only child, her personal miracle. She had a history of miscarriages and stillborns, and had despaired of ever producing an heir for her husband." He paused, searching, and added absently, "But Johrsh himself is not there..."_

_"Very good. You have proven you retain what you read. Now, what do you _see_? Prove to me that you have a thinking mind, rather than just an empty ledger for others to put their marks on you."_

_"Johrsh died in a freak accident," Kyn continued with more assurance, knowing by Master's chastisement that he was on the right track. If he had been hopelessly astray, the man would have simply left in a cold, bitter silence. "A wall in the market, weakened by the spring storms that frequently pass through their area, had fallen upon him as he passed. That would mean this portrait was painted afterwards, for such a setting would have demanded his presence." He frowned, eyes flicking across the pale faces, and mumbled half to himself as his thoughts raced, "But Manniel is there. Manniel died not long after Johrsh did from the bite of a spider. That means that this was done in the - five? Six months that separated the incidents?"_

_"It was Johrsh's death in part that convinced the Assanis to have this portrait made. They wanted to be sure that kinsmen would recognize their own blood, even if they never met, such as Lorn and his father," Master agreed, the readiness with which he volunteered the information indicating that he was well pleased with what Kyn had managed to deduce thus far. But still, he pushed for more. "It was five months that separated the two deaths. This painting was made during that time. You have told me what you do not see - now, what is it that you _can_ see?" he demanded._

_Kyn pondered, worrying at his lower lip until the nervous habit registered and he forced himself to recompose his expression, allowing some of the elation from his earlier success to buoy his thoughts just enough to keep them from focusing on possible failure. And, eventually, he ventured, "Lorn is there. While Manniel was still alive. While Johrsh was not. Didn't Seenia retreat into mourning for a short period, and then abruptly reemerge to announce that she was with child? She claimed that she had not known until after his death..." He sucked in a deep breath, staring at the tiny infant, its eyes half-shuttered drowsily as it lay cradled peacefully in its mother's arms. "She claimed that it had been a difficult pregnancy, and that is why virtually no one saw her for the entire term as she was confined to her chambers. Even if she had given birth just before this painting, just before Manniel's death, she should have been at least four months pregnant by the time of her husband's death if Lorn is here in this painting. If she carried Lorn to full term, it would have been obvious to others that she was pregnant by the time Johrsh died - "_

_"Some babies can be born up to a month premature and still survive. She claimed that he came early and that he had been fragile, and so they nursed him carefully for a month before presenting him officially as the heir to Johrsh's estate."_

_"Even so, she would have been three months pregnant by the time of Johrsh's death. Three months..." he began with a perplexed frown. "Do women show that much at three months...?" Silence followed his half-rhetorical question, and he took it as a sign that he should know the answer already, and continued picking at the facts presented before finishing wonderingly, "But it doesn't matter what other people might or might not have seen, because _she_ should have known, and well before her husband died. And as soon as she had known, she should have declared it - as she had, but only later, _after _Johrsh's death. Lorn...was Lorn really his son?" A short pause, and he added with absent-minded wonder as he began to grasp the depth of the deception, "Was Lorn even _her_ son?"_

_Master turned away, his bad leg dragging as he prepared to depart. "Some of the deductions you made were less than polished, but what you have managed to discern thus far is, for now, satisfactory." _

_Kyn's shoulders slumped with a soundless sigh as he continued gazing upon the painting, feeling relief sweep through him like the exhaustion of a hard day's training. "But..." he asked tentatively, presuming from the passed test that Master was in a reasonably good mood, but not quite so confident with the conclusion as he would like, "...am I right? Was Lorn the son of either of them?"_

_It seemed the lesson had gone well enough, for he received a response promptly. "As a woman who had never managed to produce a living child before, it was understandable if she was hesitant to make known that she was pregnant once again. What if it ended in yet another failure? Her declaration of her condition just after her husband's death might indicate otherwise however, as she was not at all shy about the announcement and some seemed to think she had a strange confidence in her ability to carry the child to term this time. Some called it desperation, for if she did not manage to produce a viable heir, her husband's properties would have defaulted to his brother, and she would have been forced to live out the rest of her days upon Berkin's good graces unless she remarried - somewhat doubtful, as no landed lord would have wanted a wife that had proved so unlucky in child bearing."_

_Kyn frowned and turned away, gazing after Master as the man began to limp away. "But, am I _right_?" he insisted, become bolder with the lengthy explication. "If he wasn't...nobody said anything. Lorn grew up to inherit Johrsh's properties when he came of age, and there was never even a hint of protest, even against his appearance. Not even from Berkin, who could have laid claim to his brother's assets."_

_"Oh, there were no concerns over his appearance," Master unexpectedly assured, a hint of humor threading through his voice as the shadows of a corridor began to claim him. "He looked very much like Johrsh. It was only his supposed mother that he seemed to take very little after. And just because you did not read any documentation concerning the matter does not mean that people did not have their suspicions. I was very selective in the material I had given you two days ago."_

_Kyn shook his head, the setup he had been subjected to passing almost without conscious notice. He had long ago grown used to the man's methods. "I don't understand. How did they manage to find a baby that they were sure would grow to take after Johrsh's appearance?"_

_A soft, amused chuckle floated out of the hallway as Master paused briefly to explain, "Because Lorn was Berkin's son, born out of wedlock. Berkin, as the younger brother to Johrsh, would ordinarily never have inherited anything, but he had been lucky in his marriage. So he too became a landed noble - but only under very strict agreements. Discovery of a bastard would have led to complications that neither he or his wife wanted to acknowledge, and so the child was given to Seenia to raise as her own." The shadow of a hand rose, forestalling the next barrage of questions. "I will not go into details when you can peruse them yourself. The papers and letters will be made available to you tomorrow. All you need to concern yourself with today is that you remember: sometimes what is not present is just as important as what is, and that even something as innocuous as a single painting can give away entire fortunes."_

Kyn shut his eyes abruptly, trembling. _Ignore it. Just ignore it. You can't smell him, can't feel him, can't see him, he's not here, he's not here... _Clutching the post-Healing haze about himself like an old blanket, he took refuge in the flow of words, allowing them to spill unhindered and keep his mind from wandering. _ :With the duke's resources at her disposal, Mennifei could have been privately tutored - _was_ privately tutored before her move to Haven, most likely - and been just as well educated as if she had been schooled at the collegium. I hazard she was not there for her personal enlightenment. What were her marks like?:_

_:Fair, Brin says. He knows she did just enough to pass, and not one heartbeat's effort more.:_

_:Was her presence in Haven her idea, or the duke's?:_

Uncertainty caused Sianni to hesitate, and finally she said, _:None of us know. However, one thing that _is_ clear though - or as clear as something gets without outright confirmation from the proverbial horse's mouth - : _there was a little snicker at her own joke, and Kyn couldn't find enough presence of mind to do more than blink as he tried to absorb the full depths of the pun, which he had learned only relatively recently during his stay at the collegium, _: - she was most likely in Haven hunting for alliances.:_

He was still somewhat distracted by the thought of Sianni cracking such a tasteless joke with all the earmarks of true enjoyment when he determinedly refocused his attention on the matter under discussion. _:Alliances?:_

_:Alliances through marriage, possibly. She is certainly of age; has been for some time now, depending on which region of Valdemar you were raised in. She has certainly not wasted any time gathering a flock of acquaintances and admirers wherever she goes - :_

_:She is naturally gregarious and overweening.:_

_:Granted. But consider her behavior - both what you have heard and what you have noted yourself - and tell me if you believe that she simply allows them to follow her around like a gaggle of ducklings instead of actively herding them around to where it pleases her.:_

He fell silent for a moment, even as he reflexively gathered unneeded breath for another inaudible rebuttal, and carefully considered the facts and rumors as Sianni had asked him to. Finally, he continued quietly, _:It is not evidence of her manipulation I contend, it is her motivation - I think she is merely trying to camouflage her actions.:_

Sianni paused in surprise. _:Why do you say that?:_

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair and tugging fitfully at the strands. _:She accepted Stefahn's advances for a time, and when his advances became too bold, she distracted him, deflected his attention. Perhaps, now that she has discarded him completely, she will find herself someone else soon.:_

_:Are you proposing, then, that her move to Haven was her idea? In order to escape Lynxfinn?:_

_:It is one of many possibilities.:_

_:But you believe it to be _the _possibility. What would she have to fear in Lynxfinn? And why bother with surrounding herself with sycophants and suitors at all? Why not remain aloof and undisturbed?:_

_:Do you not wonder _who _she maintains appearances for?:_

Sianni thoughtfully scraped a hoof through the straw in her open stall. _:I do not think it is as simple as that.:_

He nodded. _:I agree. But there is a dissonance between the man she wants her father to be, and the man that the duke really is. She can feel it - perhaps subconsciously, but it is enough for her to try and put distance between them. Enough to convince him that she can find far better prospects in the capital than in neighboring provinces. She managed to get herself sent to Haven when she's the last and essential key to his plans.:_ And after she reached Haven? After that, she continued to drift from beau to beau, keeping up the appearance that she was searching for better prospects while never allowing anything to proceed beyond the opening stages. She did just enough...and no more.

_:That is a lot to attribute to a girl whom you considered little more than a ninny.:_

_:A...ninny?:_

_:The way she was acting in that alley. That's a ninny. Kind of.:_

He mouthed the unfamiliar and ridiculous-sounding term with a small snort of bemusement. _:It was only that once. Otherwise, she has displayed an alarming ability to manipulate a situation to her own needs. I am not making the mistake of considering her less of a threat simply because she is female. In fact, quite the opposite on multiple levels.:_

_:Oh really?:_ Sianni asked archly.

He frowned suspiciously at her tone. _:Was that a comment or a question?:_

A snort. _:I suppose the former, since I cannot think of any sort of satisfactory answer you would be able to give if it were the latter.:_

Utterly confused, he tried briefly to puzzle through her response, but in the end had to give up with a shake of his head when Sianni shifted her weight, cocked a hind foot, lowered her head, and busily radiated all the signs of falling into a doze. Deciding that he would heed Nadia's advice this once and follow Sianni's example, he took one last glance toward the keep's courtyard as he contemplated sleep, and recalled the one member of their band still wandering about._ :Why was Brianna so insistent on meeting the guards?:_

A mental shrug, and Sianni responded hazily with an aloof air, _:I suppose she missed the company of fellow guards.:_

Considering who had assigned that specific guardswoman to him, Kyn thought that highly unlikely. But then again, considering Brianna's character, it also seemed to be just the sort of thing she would do. Sighing in frustration and deciding that trying to untangle a noble's plots was nothing next to untangling certain female psyches, he began to slide beneath the covers - only to pause with the blankets half-drawn up over his shoulders when there was a soft thump from the table.

Bryn's head had finally slipped past the ability of his slack hands to recover, and had come to rest against the book's pages with only a brief mumble of protest. The boy's breaths then started coming in soft, nasal wheezes as they snaked their way through an obstructed passageway.

Kyn stared at the scene for a moment, conscious of an odd impression of expectation and waiting from Sianni's direction, and finally asked, _:What?:_

_:Aren't you going to help make him more comfortable?:_

While he had been taught to take a certain amount of initiative - he would not have been able to operate independently otherwise - to do so on someone else's behalf purely out of...out of...what does one call it? 'Thoughtfulness'? It would be as if he had been asked why a dog turns three times in place before settling down for a nap - he didn't think 'dog'.

Nevertheless, his mind poked and prodded at the idea until he finally asked with a blend of deliberate obstinacy and genuine curiosity, _:Why?:_

_:Because he would do the same for you.:_

It was not the answer he had expected. But then again, he had to admit with some afterthought that he had not really expected her to answer at all. Considering the promptness of her reply, he had to wonder if she had manipulated the entire exchange merely to trounce him with that particular conclusion, but finally decided with a sigh that it didn't really matter as he slipped out of bed, wincing as bare feet came in contact with the chill stones of the floor. She had unerringly hit upon a point that he was growing increasingly uncomfortable about - he had been abusing the boy's generosity shamefully, and one of the things that Master had been adamant about was balance. Balance, not only in life, but in actions. Too much water drowned a man, while too little killed him through thirst. Any dealings with demons, spirits - even the smallest of elementals that can barely support a consciousness - required a balance between request and payment, sealed by a formal contract. And in one's relations and associations with others - there too, must there be balance. Kyn was beginning to owe the young trainee more and more in that last respect, and half of his frustration arose simply out of confusion as to how he should repay it. After all, it was not as if the boy required anything from him; at least, nothing that _only_ he would be able to provide.

_:That is where you are wrong,:_ Sianni butted in while he dragged his and Brianna's cloaks from their packs and draped them over Brin's shoulders, eyeing the boy's posture briefly before carefully readjusting the blond head to lie more comfortably across the pillow of folded arms. _:Is it not obvious by now that he simply wishes for your companionship? And you are the only one in the world who can provide him that.:_

_:I thought you were going to sleep,:_ he informed tightly, waiting to see if the boy's breaths sounded easier before returning to his bed.

Sianni promptly began blowing soundless snores down the bond until he threatened her with scissors, razors, and shaving cream.

* * *

Eep! I just realized the other day that I totally missed the Words Between one year anniversary. o.O* I can't believe this thing's been going on for more than a year now...

And yes, it appears we're going to be playing the numbering-lettering game again. I honestly had planned this chapter to be longer (actually, this little part here I had planned on appending to the interlude at first) but I decided I was too lazy. Hope this part turned out all right; honestly, I'm not quite as content with it as most of the other sections, but I haven't been able to figure out why yet. Let me know what you think.

Magdellin - Eep! Congratulations!! Pictures are always good, but I can wait. =P Glad to hear that you're all good now. Keep me updated! =)

melissa - Thank you. ^_^ With such encouragement, how can I not try to rush out the next section? =P


	26. The Words Between: part 19b

The Words Between - part 19b

Brin was up and bustling about before Kyn; it was the boy's attempts to get the chair to fall back against the door as it closed that woke him. Kyn had just enough time to catch a flicker of guilty concern on the trainee's face before the door thumped shut, the chair giving a soft creak as it settled.

_:Good morning, Kyn. Brin's gone to search for Brianna in the city.:_

Kyn's gaze snapped toward the only other bed in the room - which sat innocently, as it had since yesterday, in its corner with the covers pulled up and the edges squared. Untouched.

_:What happened?:_ he asked as he slid out of bed, suppressing a wince at the chill of the flagstones, snatching up his saddlebags and rooting through them for a spare set of clothes. _:And where is Mennifei?:_

_:We do not know what happened. Raoland suggested that Brin and he track down where she had been last night. Nadia is still asleep. Brin says Mennifei is breakfasting with some friends on her balcony.:_

_:Why are you letting - :_ The thought was interrupted by a series of firm knocks on the door, the chair rattling lightly in its new setting. He turned narrowed eyes toward the source of the disturbance, and after a heartbeat's consideration, called out sharply, "What is it?"

"Feast attire fer m'lord," a boy's voice called from the other side, its registers not yet cracking, the words clearly flavored with an impatient air.

Feast attire? Kyn grimaced and rose swiftly, dragging the chair aside and opening the door. Standing on the other side was a page uniformed in Se'Fannouel's colors, looking somehow both older and younger than Brin's fresh-faced innocence. Certainly, the Herald trainee had never sported such a practiced look of disdainful insouciance when the page looked him slowly up and down - from sleep-tousled head down to bare, unshod feet. "What attire?" Kyn asked flatly.

"Th'duke had it commissioned fer you, m'lord," the page repeated himself shortly, extending out a neatly folded stack of clothes, words accompanied by the soft lisp of provincial accent and missing tooth. "Fer the feast t'night."

"What feast?" Kyn asked with a frown at the cotton and silks suddenly foisted off on him.

The page rolled his eyes with a huff of irritation and informed in slow, succinct syllables, "There's going t'be a feast t'night. All the lords and ladies will be there. Th'duke says you're to wear that t'the feast. M'lord." Apparently afraid of having more of his precious time wasted on the obvious, the page straightened, bowed, and marched off smartly without waiting for a response or further questions.

Kyn stared after the page for a heartbeat in bewilderment before retreating back into his room, absently hooking the chair with a foot to push it against the door again. Sifting through the layers of clothing with a growing sneer, noting their general cut and colors, he eventually flung the pile onto the bed before changing into the clothes he had packed from the collegium.

_:The duke provided clothes for you?:_

_:The duke wants me to look and play the part of his puppet,:_ Kyn growled back, straightening wrinkles and tying off buckles with short, angry gestures. _:How much would you like to wager that none of the others will be receiving this 'special treatment'?:_

_:Perhaps he merely wishes to honor you and have you look the part. He did mention that he wished to express his gratitude for your aid to his daughter in a public manner.:_

_:He can do so without picking out my clothes and affiliations for me.:_

Though little activity could be detected from the guest wing, Kyn was faced with a nearly solid wall of bustle by the time he reached the central structure housing the receiving halls and audience chambers. Servants bustled back and forth, weaving in between craftsmen and common laborers bearing decorations, furniture, and in a rare case, pens of fowl for the kitchens - hastily redirected by a red-faced, flustered manservant that berated the indifferent workmen for their poor sense of direction.

As he stood in the shadow of one of the grand hall's demon pillars, sifting the roil of bodies and roar of voices for the duke's, he wished fleetingly for the same bloodcraft that gave Se'Fannouel the ability to detect if he were nearby. Yet he surmised that such a wish would probably do him little good even were it granted, for a private audience with the duke would probably be a rare commodity on a day such as this, even if he were able to spot the man from across the city. Besides, he had every confidence that Se'Fannouel wished to speak to him in private as much as he did. He was certain that the duke would seek him out at the first opportunity...

A gaggle of voices rose from from behind him, slowly gaining over the scuff of many soles across the flagstones. Without taking his eyes from the proceedings, he shifted a little closer to the wall, out of the direct path of anyone who may be passing by. Thus, it could have only been deliberate when someone's arm pushed roughly into his shoulder when the chatter was about to pass his position.  
  
"I beg your pardon."

If it hadn't been for the familiar, mellifluous voice that shaped the words, Kin might have never bothered to acknowledge the courtesy. As it was, he was still tempted to do so out of pure spite - but something mocking hidden just beneath the polite facade begged to be addressed. "Pardon granted," he retorted stiffly. A glance toward the duke clinched the matter; the near corner of the man's mouth was upturned in a crooked smile, displaying a predatory amusement.

"How are we feeling today?"

Such cheek. Unforgivable. Kin did not bother deluding himself that Se'Fannouel was making an innocent inquiry after last night's absence; the man's look was all too knowing. "How am I supposed to feel today?" he sniped back, turning to face the man and holding the duke's gaze unblinkingly.

Se'Fannouel's smile widened fractionally, meeting the challenge without hesitation. "Leave us," he said imperiously, underscoring the command with a negligent wave of a hand. His followers looked to each other, some breaking away as soon as the dismissal was given, thought at least one or two looked like they would risk a protest. But their comrades managed to urge them away without further incident, and even as the last were still dispersing, Se'Fannouel was leading Kin into a claustrophobic side passage.

_:I could kill him right now and end this farce.:_

_:You do not even have an eating knife on - :_

_:I do not need a weapon,: _Kyn insisted, muscles unconsciously flexing, though he could already think up half a dozen reasons why he should not carry through the threat. At least, not yet.

_:Do not say such things,: _Sianni reprimanded. _:It's too soon for you to make such jests.:_

He resisted the childish urge to ask who she thought was jesting, and focused instead on the most essential question. _:Too soon? Too soon for what?:_

_:Perhaps you had not known better before, but you do now,: _she admonished. _:If you intentionally kill someone now, simply for the sake of convenience rather than out of a misguided sense of what is more important in the greater scheme of things, even I will not be able to rationalize it to myself much less others.: _

_:I do not need your protection or approval. What makes you think I care, even if I am aware of your opinions on the matter?:_

_:The same way I know that habit is your biggest enemy now, rather than any true intent to be contrary. I _know_ you.:_

He gritted his teeth, heartily tired of that phrase, the least of which was that he had no evidence to the contrary to rub her nose in yet. How could she always be so sure of herself? For that matter, how could the Heralds - with an even lesser claim to any sort of godliness than the Companions - be so sure?

Yet, surely they couldn't _all _be wrong. What would it take to delude so many people for so long? He had never been subjected to the opinions of more than two people at a single time: Master, and whichever instructor happened to be present at the time. Even then, the instructor was always overruled by Master if they should happen to have dissenting views. The Heralds, Valdemar, comprised so many more opinions than just two - how was he to tell the truth from illusion?

_:If it is so hard to rationalize, why not prosecute me now for my past deeds?:_

_:The purpose of a sentence is to punish those who knowingly did wrong and feel no remorse for it, or to keep those who are dangerous from causing harm again - all focused on the result that such an act does not repeat itself. Do you think you will commit wanton murder in the near future, Kyn?:_

_:There are still many who consider me dangerous or wish me punished.:_

_:Law without compassion or reason can become tyrannical and cruel. A child who does not know any better should be taught, not chained and beaten. But that is no excuse to knowingly do wrong.:_

_:How many others think the way you do, Sianni? Do all the Companions hold the same opinion?:_

Interestingly enough, he could actually feel the thinning of their contact, as if she had unintentionally tried to pull back - the mental equivalent of looking away to avoid a too-direct gaze. _:What do you mean?:_

_:You know what I mean,: _he continued mercilessly, pressing the advantage when he saw her evasion. _:How many of your arguments with Alberich are simply because he is the un-Herald, or simply because you are how you are?:_

She huffed. _:What sort of question is that? I am a Companion in - :_

_:Exactly the kind it seems,: _Kyn continued implacably. _ :Intrusive, personal, and utterly without regard to boundaries of privacy.:_

A grudging snort of laughter, and then she unbent far enough to admit, _ :There is a rhyme and reason to the process of Choosing, or so we would like to believe. Otherwise, half the Companions in a field might as well take off whenever someone is ready to be Chosen, and the first come is the first served. I happened to be the one selected for you - and I'll have you know that all Companions might be white and cuddly, but we are certainly not stuffed with the same personality.:_

He sent to her without words his fervent agreement on that point. :_Companions would have driven half the collegium mad, if all had been like you.:_

_:What? Only half?:_ she asked coyly.

_:Only half,: _he reasserted, _:because the rest are already mad.:_

"Where has your guardswoman disappeared to?"

Kyn tilted his head questioningly as he refocused his attention on the duke. Se'Fannouel had stopped in the middle of the shadowed hallway to face him, caught in between the intermittent punctuations of light shed by low-burning lamps. The faintest of breezes indicated a steady flow of air from the other end of the corridor towards them, warm and scented with a whiff of spices and frying oils from the kitchens. "She is her own person, and I do not require a detailed schedule of her whereabouts," he said with a casual shrug as Sianni murmured approvingly in the back of his mind. It was not so surprising that the duke had placed them under such close scrutiny, but it was a considerable consolation to know that the duke was not behind Brianna's absence - may even be concerned in his own way from the faint line that appeared between his brows at Kyn's flippant response, perhaps worrying where she might be skulking about while not under the supervision of his spies. It was doubly consoling, to think that the duke was worried enough to ask the question baldly.

"I see," Se'Fannouel stated unhappily, before recomposing himself and continuing abruptly, "Many preparations still need to be overseen, so I will dispense with the rest of the pleasantries. No doubt you've begun to feel certain side effects by now."

Kyn mentally sneered at the supposed 'pleasantries' and snapped, "There are easier ways to barter for my cooperation than poisoning me."

"Not poison," Se'Fannouel was quick to correct. "It will not kill you, just make you very, very uncomfortable. It was to ensure that you would come and listen to my offer, rather than a weak attempt to coerce you altogether. I would much rather have you cooperative than fighting me every step of the way."

"You only make this offer now because you could not take what you wanted while we were in the capital."

The duke shrugged. "If you wish to be crude about it, yes."

"Then make your offer and be quick about it. I do not appreciate being drugged into docility like a farm animal."

A flicker of irritation passed across the duke's face at the casual address, but he merely inclined his head in acquiescence. It made Kyn shift his weight uneasily, to see the proud man let the slight pass by without demur. "I wish for you to reconsider your loyalties. What will revenge gain you? You are young, well-spoken, well-learned, well-trained - "

Kyn stared at the duke, wondering at the man's gall even as something inside laughed hysterically at the duke's strategy. _Is that his argument? He doesn't even know!_

" - if you have even half the mind that your father sported, you should be able to see the opportunity before you. Let the past stay in the past." One auburn brow rose. "Will you let it define what your future can be?"

_:Doesn't know what, Chosen?:_

_:That I don't remember. That this isn't about revenge.:_ What was there to avenge himself upon? He could not remember his parents, their love for him or his love for them. This had never been about them. It had always been about someone else's pain. "And what," he asked in carefully measured tones, eyeing Se'Fannouel from beneath a ragged fall of dye-darkened hair, "exactly is the opportunity before me?"

The man smiled, a warm, self-satisfied expression as he gestured around him. "A place here," he said, voice smooth and well-oiled, a practiced orator's voice. "I will not insult your intelligence by trying to convince you that my actions were unselfish. I am not willing to give up my position or what I have gained from it, but I can afford to be generous. What would you gain if you pursued your current route? You have no proof of your bloodline, and there is no one who will vouch for you - at least, no one who anyone would believe. All you will gain for yourself with my removal is, perhaps, a death sentence if you are sloppy in its execution. On the other hand, what would you gain if you allowed yourself to be covered by my wing of influence? There will be no more need for this skulking about, playing the pawn of a madman...there are much greater things in store for one such as you."

"And what do you gain in return for such largesse?"

Se'Fannouel's face immediately fell into uncompromising lines and he stated without hesitation, "You cease your interference in my activities immediately."

Kyn waited for more, but when nothing came after, he prompted suspiciously, "That is all?"

The duke smiled thinly and confirmed, "That is all." When Kyn continued to stare disbelievingly at him, the man chuckled grimly and continued, "It is not so illogical as you might think if you consider it from my perspective.

"I have been preparing for this moment for the last twelve years. Ordinarily, such preparations should have taken only eight - and for nearly this entire time, I blundered along with the mistaken belief that I had all the world's worst luck focused upon me, perhaps to balance what I will surely reap when my plans finally come to fruition. Burglaries, vandalisms, deals that have been mysteriously undercut by anonymous rivals with information that I had thought kept secret...some, granted, were most likely genuine mishaps. But it wasn't until the merchant's death - and then_ your_ appearance immediately afterwards! -that the suspicion fully crystallized."

"The merchant...Sovnessan?" Kyn murmured, brows knit as he dragged the name out from the depths of his memory. The merchant, that night in which this entire nightmare had begun...it seemed so long ago.

The duke nodded. "His death was the most direct opposition I had encountered, and it was most suspiciously timed. Jenner ever had a subtle touch. It wasn't until then that I began to look back, and realized that there had been a smokescreen of smaller, inconsequential setbacks that hid the larger, more improbable ones between them. But Sovnessan; he had been the last key. He would have placed the last of the seals on the deed the very next day. An entire _year and half's_ worth of negotiations - !" The duke's voice had tightened with each word, until he stopped himself and took a calming breath. "Thanks to Jenner's work, I now find it necessary to renew the contracts, when all of this should have been finished long before such a deadline ever came near. Your contributions have been considerable; I may have asked you to serve me against Jenner and help guard against his activities, but I am not unreasonable. I merely wish for you to cease listening to his orders and that should give me enough room to conclude things. And should you fear retaliation," he lifted a brow, managing somehow to radiate a sort of avuncular concern, "I am willing to extend my protection." 

_Contracts?_ Kyn could barely resist the urge to grind his teeth. With every explanation and clue, it seemed even more mysteries were being revealed. "What contracts are you referring to?"

For the first time since they began the conversation, the duke seemed to hesitate. When the silence stretched unbroken, Kyn pressed harshly, "What is your ultimate goal? What is all this leading to?"

"Father."

Kyn would have happily killed with a glare if he could, Sianni's admonitions notwithstanding. Oddly enough, for all his abrupt reticence, Se'Fannouel looked as if he would have liked to do the same at the interruption. That is, before the man actually turned to face his daughter. "Yes, Fei?" he asked with a falsely gentle and distant patience, a mask of vague concern slipping easily over his expression. "What is it?"

The girl dipped her head shallowly in greeting, the very image of courtly grace and filial devotion. "Machial, the chamberlain, requests your presence."

The duke frowned. "He is tasked with every aspect of the keep's running and has done so without incident for the past eleven years. What is there that he cannot decide in my stead?"

"There has been an altercation in the kitchens," Mennifei continued levelly, the gaze she raised to meet his, unwavering. "The head cook is threatening to resign on the spot."

"And Machial is unable to handle the matter himself?" Se'Fannouel snapped, annoyance leaking around the edges of his control. "What did I hire the man for, then? This cannot wait?"

"The cook refuses to acknowledge the chamberlain. The feast begins in seven candlemarks, and the kitchens have been in chaos for three. If matters are not put to right again soon, there may be no feast to be had. As it is, some of the assistants are whispering that they may have to substitute as many as four dishes if they are to have things ready in time."

The duke released a breath of clear irritation before turning abruptly. "Very well," he said in clipped tones, taking two long strides before he turned to look back at her with a frown. "Are you not accompanying me?" he asked with thinly veiled command.

Mennifei's demeanor remained as self-possessed as ever as she made a small gesture in Kyn's direction. "I merely wished a chance to personally thank Kyn for saving my life. I had not had the opportunity to do so before we left Haven."

Se'Fannouel's eyes flicked toward Kyn, and it seemed for a moment as if the duke would insist on remaining instead. But Mennifei's chin rose as she continued watching her father expectantly, and perhaps realizing how ridiculous his hesitation made him appear, the duke finally said curtly, "Very well. Do not be long."

She smiled and smoothly replied, "Do not worry, Father. I am sure Kyn will act in no way toward me but with the utmost propriety."

There was a twitch of one corner of Se'fannouel's mouth, perhaps in appreciation of her manipulation, before he was retreating rapidly down the hall. "He would be wise to do so."

They both watched his figure diminishing into the distance, before disappearing altogether down some side corridor. Then, as if on some pre-arranged signal, they turned as one to regard each other - Kyn with suspicion, and Mennifei with deceptive serenity.

"I hate you."

Kyn's eyes widened, and then he felt a surge of annoyance that he had been surprised at all by her declaration. Still, while their meetings up till now had been short and volatile, the depths of feeling implied in that simple statement transcended whatever mere annoyance he had thought he was to her. "What?"

"I hate you!" she declared again, voice pitched low but completely devoid of the ingratiating sultriness she usually injected into every look and gesture. Instead, it was as harsh and diamondine as the cutting edge of broken glass. "You ruin everything. Everywhere you appear, things - things happen!" Her last statement was punctuated by a petulant stamp of her foot, lower lip caught between her teeth as if to still a tremble in it, her composure cracking and faltering before his very eyes.

Kyn stared at her, reading the signs, but unable to reconcile them in any way with what he knew of her character thus far. She looked on the verge of tears...a screaming tantrum...perhaps both...

_:Perhaps even she does not know,: _Sianni's voice slipped through his thoughts, tinted with sympathy and sorrow. _:Just like you, she is a confused and lonely child.:_

_:I am nothing like her,: _he snapped back. "My apologies," he said insincerely and turned to leave. "But if it is any consolation, I will not be interfering in the duke's affairs again after our current business is concluded."

"I am not done with you yet - do not dare to turn your back on me!" Mennifei growled.

He paused, smoothing his face into blankness as he looked back at her. "Or what?" he deliberately challenged.

She flushed, eyes narrowing, her entire figure stiffening in affront. Still, she was not Se'Fannouel's daughter and the court's darling by looks alone. Mennifei managed to retain her poise by the tips of her carefully manicured fingernails, even lift her chin slightly in arrogant rebuttal, looking down the elegant line of her aristocratic nose. "You complicated my relationship with Stefahn - "

He shook his head in disbelief at her audacity. "You were ending your relations with him on your own - "

"Do not interrupt me!"

_:Perhaps you should listen to her.:_

_:But she is clearly delusional - :_

_:I know she is being illogical. We all know, even Mennifei. But she searched you out on her own, she is baring herself to you, no matter how skewed or vitriolic the outpouring. Is the price really so high that it is not worth letting her vent her spleen on you for a little while?:_

_:What could I possibly gain from this?:_

_:If you don't let her finish, you'll never find out. And perhaps it is not so much for your gain, but hers.:_

Again, this concept of doing something for someone else, simply for their comfort or ease. Certainly, he doubted Mennifei would return such a favor, unlike Brin. What motivation could he find in staying to receive her abuse?

_:Remember what role the duke might wish her to play. You need her cooperative, at least until you are certain that the danger from that particular vision has passed.:_

Grudgingly, he had to accede that particular point, and though their conversation had passed literally with the swiftness of thought, still, enough time had passed that Mennifei seemed to interpret his silence as compliance. Regaining some of her confidence, she continued with the regal disdain of a royal passing judgment, "You complicated - and possibly compromised - my relationship with Stefahn. You humiliated me before my peers. You took it upon yourself to insinuate yourself into my affairs...you even replaced me in my father's thoughts!"

Kyn shook his head in disbelief at the list of fabricated grievances, not even knowing where to start until he decided it was better to not address any of it directly at all. "He never thought of you as much as you delude yourself into thinking. Not in the way you want him to."

"You would presume to know my father better than I do?!"

Gritting his teeth, he stepped toward her, hoping that the threat of a physical confrontation would make her rethink the wisdom of antagonizing him. "Presumption or not, it is the truth. You have been so busy trying to make him into something you want that you're willing to blind yourself to every other aspect of him."

_As you have been so willing to blind yourself to Master's more questionable actions, wishing that things were how they were in simpler times, when Master could never be wrong and you were the sole focus of all his attention?_

_This isn't about me!_ he reminded himself harshly.

Though Mennifei shrank back a step, her expression and stance remained stiffly fierce. "I do not even know why I am wasting my time trying to make you understand. I will admit that your accent and manners are well-practiced, but wherever the Heralds managed to unearth you from, you cannot possibly understand the ties of blood, particularly that of noble blood - "

_:The little chit!:_

_:I though you wanted me to let her say her piece?:_

_:That was before she decided to get snippy. You're of even better breeding than she is, in both senses of the word!:_

Mennifei's grievances - concerned primarily with his interference in her plans to rehabilitate her father after the tragic death of his wife - were many and varied. Kin shook his head, needing no encouragement from Sianni now as the very girl's ignorance made him want to pound her misconceptions straight through sheer force of will. "Why," he interrupted harshly, "can't you see that he is simply someone that is incapable of thought outside of himself?"

"And what would someone like you know about thinking of others?" Mennifei sniffed, turning her head aside as she folded her arms, eerily echoing the doubts that were slowly building within him at each new revelation.

"We are not talking about me!" he insisted. "We are talking about the duke! I Saw him - " He caught himself just in time, gritted his teeth, and continued more quietly, if no less vehemently, "He intends things that would leave no doubt in your mind that he is not a man worthy of your affection or one who holds any affection for you."

The wine-amber gaze was steady with a confidence that inspired both jealousy and a frustrated rage at her stubborn refusal to consider any outside opinions._ When was the last time you so immovably defended Master? _"He is my father," she stated resolutely, "and it is my duty and pleasure to treat him in a manner befitting such a relationship. He raised me, taught me, provided for me. It is the least that I can do, to bring him pride and joy with my existence."

Closing his eyes and rubbing a hand over his face with a grimace, Kyn snapped, "Fine. What is it that you wanted, anyway? I can't imagine that you would go through all the trouble of tracking me down and luring your father away merely to air your grievances."

"But that is exactly what I wanted to do," she continued serenely, seeming to swell with even more confidence upon seeing him give up the argument. "There is an old custom amongst the gentry. If you declare a duel or feud against another party, you would lay down your glove before them - I have laid mine down before you. I have explained all that I have taken offense at, shown why, exactly, I deem this action necessary. You have been warned, Kyn; from now on, I view myself as your enemy, and will do all that I can to act against any of your purposes."

He nearly laughed aloud in her face at the bold declaration. As it was, he might have let slip at least a snicker or two - if there hadn't been a sudden twinge in his head, followed quickly by an all-too-familiar warning clench of his middle. The aborted Foresight was enough to hold him still in new-found wariness, wondering how she could possibly be of enough danger to warrant a vision, as Mennifei turned and walked away, her head held high and poised.

* * *

Wow. Bet you all thought this would never come, didn't you? =P (I can assure you it was worth the wait - because my first draft of this section was complete and utter crap; this one isn't great, but at least it's better than that first one shudder.) Thank you all for continuing to hang in there with me, and for continuing to drop the occasional note to check. You've all been the single motivating factor that has been pushing this fic toward completion.

Well, it's wonderful to say that a lot of uncertainties in my life have finally been worked out, and even though I may not have the time to write as much right now, I certainly have a lot more motivation to do so. For nearly a year now, I've been fighting with my school to switch from the college of Engineering to the college of L&S so that I may pursue an English degree. They had already rejected my application once (despite the fact that I was one semester away from finishing all English requirements with a major GPA of 3.4). The fine print stated that you can only apply twice. I was naturally a little nervous about the whole matter. ;) But, I finally pulled it off this semester (after literally daily visits to both the English and L&S offices for the first 1.5 months of the semester in between classes and work), and there went 9 months of stress out the window with a single signature. I am now much, *much* happier in my classes (where there are a max of 20-25 students and I get to actually *discuss* things with the prof instead of being stuffed in with 700+ other people - yes, some of my CS classes had been literally 700+, and *never* less than 50 - if you managed to get into the class at all). The summer was also intense (in a good way), as I was in an internship in the Columbia River Gorge area doing what I love most - interfacing between cutting-edge technology and communication in a rising venture company. And whatever time I had outside of it I spent hiking/climbing waterfalls all up and down the gorge, river rafting, horseback riding, etc. I have many excuses. ^_^ But, for your patience, I'll let slip we're gonna get into the action really really soon. As in...by the middle of the next part. =)

Anyway, now on to the credits. A HUGE THANK YOU to Rei, for not only helping to beta this section, but getting a revision out in an amazing amount of time. =P I literally got a response back the same day I sent it (well, taking into account the fact that I sent it in the early AM at the beginning of said day). Thus, you get to read this part only a day late instead of waiting another week.

Now, I have to apologize in that I haven't kept up on all the reviews and stuff; I try to answer them all, but if I skipped a question or something, feel free to give me a knock over the head with it. =)

ola - Thanks for being so patient with me. ^_^

jander - laughs All questions that I've been asking myself recently too. ^_~ Considering how long ago I wrote some of this, I've become pretty foggy on the details of my own story, and these days I feel like I'm an outsider of my own plots. o.O*

Cosette Crystalline - Woo! Congrats! Hopefully you'll have a less painful time of it than I have. =P You're right, I tend to be an 'movement'-oriented gal, but as in everything, I believe in a little bit of balance. There's no sense in rushing you all along and leaving you no time to savor. =P

futago - Yes, I did notice that on some previous chapters, to my everlasting shame. -.- I've just been too lazy to upload edited versions thus far. It's a problem when the names of two main characters rhyme with each other. But thank you for reiterating the typo. =)

Rei - lol. You sound so disappointed by the thought that there's more to come. ^_~ I suppose I can always tie it all off in the next chapter, and then you'll have your completed piece... =P *eep* Sounds like you nearly had a busier time of it than I have in the past few months. =P Hope things have panned out for you though.

desert angel - beams Thank you. ^_^ Hmm, Oliver Twist? I should refresh my memory. =P I remember reading Oliver a long long *long* time ago, but the details are even fuzzier than the dryer's lint collector these days.

Magdellin - UPDATES! Any more recent pics? =P And I'm beginning to think that fanfiction.net really has something out for you and long reviews. ;) 


	27. The Words Between: part 20

gasp Armaggedon has arrived! As well as the next chapter to The Words Between...will the surprises never end.

The Words Between - part 20

_:Kyn, can you hear me: _

"Kynfaellar. Do you heed me?"

He looked up at the gentle touch beneath his chin, blinked myopically at the duke's face, and with a breath that drew familiar scents deep into his lungs, he said, "Yes."

Aisner smiled - an expression that, at other times, might have seemed eerily indulgent - and lowered his hand, clasping it along with the other behind him. "Remain looking at me, Kyn...good. Do you know what a binding is?"

"Yes."

_:Kyn:_

A small sound of satisfaction, and the duke turned away. Steel whispered to stone, and the air's saccharine scent was accented by a metallic snap. The duke returned, bearing a dagger which Kyn knew intimately, yet had never laid eyes upon until now. "Do you know what a G'ao demon is?"

He grasped idly at the odd sensation of deja vu. "Yes..." he murmured in satisfaction as it came to him. The dagger looked heavy, nestled in the duke's grip...

_...laying upon the stone bier...sliding across a pale throat...tucked neatly between his ribs... _

His heart stuttered, and the prickle of sweat sprang out over his forehead and the heart of his palms. It was all too familiar...

_:Kyn, Chosen! I know you can hear me - answer:_

He tilted his head at that distant call, but grew distracted by the soft stroke of light along a keen edge. His eyes followed the hypnotic flicker while his thoughts squirmed fitfully from his clumsy graspings. Circles within circles within circles...

"Focus, Kyn. Do you remember how he traps the demon? Do you remember the circles he drew?"

Circles...

_:Kyn, do you remember? Do you remember what happened:_

Confused by the multiple streams of thought, he vacillated helplessly until the duke commanded his gaze completely and repeated his questions with clear impatience. Then, Kyn stated again, "Yes...yes."

_:The dinner, Kyn...the dinner, and Mennifei, Nadia and Brin...:_

His hand was taken and something pressed into it. Only when the duke said to look did he let his gaze fall from the man's face, down to the plain, silver flask. Its weight told him that there was no taint from inferior alloys, and that there was nothing so innocent as water within. It dragged at his hand, as if it sought the earth with a will of its own.

"Draw it. Draw the circle and the symbols...there."

Circles...

_:They are still there, Kyn...they are waiting, _I_ am waiting...:_

Waiting...he had waited a long time for the end. He had waited at the table, too tensed to feel hungry, even as the scents of the feast beckoned...

* * *

_He could only grant the food the barest glance before needing to look away again. His stomach roiled uncomfortably, and such was his state of mind that he could hardly tell if the upset was due to hunger or nausea - or, perhaps it was hunger-induced nausea. Yes, that would be fitting. It seemed as if everything was converging tonight...lives. Stories. Ambitions._

_Magic._

_It seemed as if his very bones itched, something thrumming through the air, setting people's laughter around the table ringing with an unnatural echo, the clatter of silver and dishware over-bright and tinny. He was rarely able to feel the weavings, particularly the smaller or more subtle ones, but sometimes it was otherwise. Sometimes, such as now, he wondered how anyone could resist simply stopping and staring, wondering at the source of the disturbance. It was a selective sensitivity - as if, having heard the background noise of hundreds of conversations all his life, he no longer registered its existence. Yet, as soon as its pitch or volume changed in any way, his attention latched onto it relentlessly, trying to pinoint the differences and their source._

_So it was, living beneath the same roof as Master. Always something happening behind closed doors. Always something tingling in the air, shivering through the stones. Kyn may have felt it all, once upon a time, but such a sense had become dull with time and over-exposure. But he knew when it changed, when it became something serious. It was something serious now, in this hall of Lynxfinn holdings, at the table of his step-uncle._

_Many of the guests had already been seated by the time he had arrived. Mennifei and her coterie were huddled near the head, to the left of the place reserved for the duke. She had sent a single, sullen glare toward Kin as he was placed opposite her, to the right of the table's head, before putting him out of sight and mind with a pointed turn of her head. Brin was not with her. Brin had still not arrived by the time the duke finally swept into place, and the feast officially began after a glowing speech that Kin paid only half a mind to._

:Where is Brin:_ he asked of Sianni as he spied Nadia sitting farther down the table, looking disdainful pinned between a sallow-looking woman in an unbecoming purple gown and a florid-nosed man who seemed to have already begun the celebration before he ever arrived at the table._

:I have not heard from Raoland of late...still searching...:

* * *

Searching. Waiting. Both contained the same anticipation, though in one, the ending was expected, while the other was mere supposition. 

The dark, viscous liquid continued to pour from the flask endlessly, and though three circles had already been completed, the vessel seemed no lighter than before. Circles had no end and no beginning; they were infinite in points and sides. They were equal no matter which direction one faced, the strongest prison or the strongest shield one could make. Those who crafted bridges and supports knew the strength of a circle's arch. Those who crafted art knew the allure of its smooth edge, that drew the eyes around and down and over, again and again in a neverending spiral. Non-mortal eyes could be trapped that way, ever-following its seductive curve. Non-mortal beings could be trapped within, locked away for as long as the bindings that made the circle material to them lasted.

Bindings were another art altogether, apart from the shape of the trap itself. He drew bindings of one sort now, stroke by careful stroke, within and without the circles, but never crossing that essential boundary. There had been bindings of another sort at work tonight...

* * *

_Still searching. How long did it take to find one woman who was supposed to be watching his back? She had certainly detached herself readily enough, unless someone had done the detaching for her...but there had been no alarm raised by the Companions over Brin. He was still wandering, probably lost, missing the sweets and culinary delights that he had such a passion for, while those least appreciative were forced to endure the false celebration. Perhaps it was a ruse to seperate their party, but if so, it was not one of the duke's devising._

_The feast was interminable. Brin was searching, but Kyn was waiting; waiting for something to happen, waiting for the magic to snap, springing; waiting for the Companions to bugle warning, that something has happened; waiting for the guests to start keeling over from the heavy food - how could they stand shoveling the stuff into their mouths one bite after another with the tension and waiting so thick he could barely breathe - ?_

_And then the duke stood from his seat. The motion was so unexpected, Kin nearly started from his own in sheer reaction. "Please, continue," he assured his guests with an easy smile and a casual gesture. "I will be returning soon." And with no more explanation than that, he turned an inscrutible look upon his daughter who paused and blinked with a fork half-raised, before turning to depart the hall._

_Mennifei dropped her fork, her chair scraping discordantly as she stood, and ignoring the questions pattering after her from her puzzled hangers-on, stepped rapidly after the retreating form of the duke._

:Brin found them:

:Them:_ he returned sharply to Sianni, his gaze whipping down the table to meet Nadia's, the healer looking equally surprised and concerned by the duke's interruption._ :Who are 'them':

:I do not know...Brianna is amongst them...:_ Sianni sounded distracted, concerned, but not overly so, and that was all that kept Kyn from directing his whole attention to the conversation, mysteriously-acting duke or no. He stood, a look directing Nadia to remain at the feast while he palmed his unused dinner knife, and strode after the last glimpse of a trailing skirt as Mennifei turned the corner and was lost to sight. _:They are heading back to the keep now.:

_He nearly had to jog to catch another glimpse of the young woman, turning down unfamiliar corridors, ones that had not been revealed in the keep's building plans. He made no effort to conceal his trailing; the duke would know he was following. Se'Fannouel obviously intended something tonight, with a great hall full of guests busily eating and drinking themselves into a stupor, and a glance telling his daughter to follow._

:Where are they now? Who are 'they':_ Kyn demanded as soon as he had a sure sighting of Mennifei, who had to trot to keep up with her father's long-legged strides. They wound deeper into the keep...down a flight of stairs..._

:They are nearly there...guardsmen...they are clearing the way for them...:

_What Sianni said did not make sense, but the duke was pulling open a door now, ushering Mennifei through without so much as a glance back. Kyn ran forward as the door was about to close after them, catching the handle just before it could click shut, and with the knife 's grip rough and solid against his palm - the blade was dull, but it would have to do - he yanked the door open, crouched to one side, searching frantically for the threat he knew must wait beyond... _

:Kyn, the way is barred! We cannot get in:

:Kyn, we cannot leave the keep! The great doors have been locked somehow:

_There was a momentary flash of irritation that, so typical of the healer, Nadia had not seen fit to remain quietly in her seat, but had apparently tried to make her own explorations._

_And then the smell hit. _

* * *

There was an acrid rustle off to his left as the duke dropped another handful of dried stuff into a brazier, one of half a dozen scattered through the cavernous room's peripheries. Hexagonal, with a ceiling converging to a point high above, using the power of numbers when a sphere's efficacy would have been weakened or broken by the straight lines of doors. Three and three, an even division of the angles - the smell thickened, and his vision wavered. 

_Relax, boy, your work is almost done..._

"Relax, Kynfaellar, you have done well."

Someone's hand took his, removed the flask, and tugged him forward, shuffling. He could barely feel his own body, caught within the net of herbs and magic that permeated the very pores of the stones beneath his feet, burned for who knows how long to have filled the entire space with its scent, enough to trap him within a single breath, before he even stepped fully within.

_:Kyn, wake up! Something - someone's trying to intervene, there is someone there - :_

_Let go, boy. Do not clutch so tightly at opportunity that you choke it._

"Lift your step there - good. We would not wish to ruin all your hard work, would we? There is time yet. Your part is coming soon enough...rest."

* * *

Kyn gasped, whirling around, hands sweeping out in an instinctive search for threats nearly before he realized what he was seeing - and blinked. 

He was in the garden, beside the pond, without consciously seeking it out. Swallowing his heart back down his throat, Kyn slowly straightened, turning with suspicious eyes to examine the scenery. What had he been doing? He had been snearing at the clothes the duke had thought to lay out for him for the feast...no, he had _been_ at the feast...he had struggled with the smells and the sounds and then the bewildering events...

Everything in the garden was as he remembered it, and yet there was something subtly different. He couldn't grasp the source - merely the effect, a tingling chill of unease clutching at his spine, as if a stranger had wandered through the manse and his room, leaving tantalizing hints as to their passage but nothing overt enough to impinge upon the conscious mind. Someone had walked through those private places within him and left only enough disturbance to make him aware of their presence - a taunt. _I was here. _

It was a maddening itch that he couldn't quite pinpoint and thus, couldn't quite scratch, and if he didn't discover its source soon, he would -

"In this respect, boy - and distressingly many others - you have followed your father's example far too closely."

Kyn nearly fell, turning so quickly his panicked gaze slid right over the figure standing in the wall's shadow before abruptly fixing on it.

Jenner smiled thinly, both corners of an unflawed mouth rising to reveal the hints of matching dimples in two smooth, unmarred cheeks. And though his visage was shockingly symmetrical now, the expression was just as cold and frighteningly familiar as ever. "When Vinsen locked his teeth around an idea on how things should be, not even the gods themselves could pry him off."

* * *

Oh, the sacrifices I had to make in order to get this out! For an idea of just what I had to work with today in order to write chapter 20, go to my website and then tack on /brokenscreen.jpg to the URL. 

New screen to come on Friday. Hopefully. crosses fingers

I can't believe how many people still find their way to this story despite its long period of inactivity. Thank you ever so much for continuing to write encouragement, both those who are new to this monster of a fanfiction, and to those who have stuck it out with me all this time. I admit it has been hard, trying to reestablish the voice that I used to write with, but I am trying to plod along to at least a semi-satisfactory conclusion before I give up the ghost. ) I suppose now that I have a spic-and-span new site that I should start populating it with chapters as well as updates on my RL so that people know that I'm still alive and kicking this story around.

Btw, I have been reading some concern lately about the "interactive nature" of reviewer-specific responses that some authors tack on to the end of their writings...I have no idea what the hell that's about on the part of but I'm supposing that if they slap my wrist for it, I'll stop doing so simply for the sake of convenience and try to set up a board on my own site so that if you have questions, you can get some answers. Otherwise, I'm still soaking up each and every comment you stick onto the review lists, even if I do not respond directly. Responses make my day!

M3m0rii - My dorm room window used to be _filled_ with yellow post-it notes! Believe me, I had to do quite a bit of re-reading and digging before I remembered enough to finally pelt out this next section. laughs Well, if I managed to garner some secret technique from 12 years of polishing off nearly a book a day, I'm afraid I couldn't tell you which specific volume did the trick. But I'll keep my eye out for the most likely possibilities and let you know when I find it! And there is no greater praise for an author than loyal readers.

polywog - Yes, one of the many details that I keep tripping over. -.- I'm afraid that I named Brin and Kyn a little too closely, and when I'm really trying to dash out a new chapter, I overlook that far too often. It doesn't help that I actually know a guy named Kin in RL; it just helps to make things doubly confusing.


	28. The Words Between: part 21

meep

The Words Between - part 21

Kyn's life had taken on a surreal cast that he had only found matched in the most tragic of comedies. When he had been forced to study them in his younger years, he had scorned their seeming artifice, the improbable coincidences that had brought about irony, tragedy, or hilarity; the helpless players within the cast scurrying blindly about to the bidding of the demented playwright, mistaking their circumstances for the edicts of a gods' pleasure or fury rather than a simple, childishly cruel amusement.

With his lack of experience, was it any wonder that he could not see the truth for what it was? That such intricate and artificial plots might actually model real life closer than he could have ever imagined himself? How else could it explain the sudden insane urge he felt to choke himself with laughter, even as his throat closed upon dry sobs? Was this what he had been reduced to; little more than a jester's role, an unwitting pawn in the game between kings, wandering confusedly from scene to scene and never given the keys to understanding, or even the realization of his own pitiable nature?

Jenner looked unsurprised to be here. He looked unsurprised to see Kyn here. In fact, Jenner looked as if everything was finally falling into place - nearly two decades' worth of anticipation setting fire to his eyes, a light which Kyn eventually had to turn away from, shaking. The shaking...he could not stop it. It made him stumble even though he was not moving, his body canting wildly aside though the ground was steady, and he caught at a willow beside him, nearly giving in to the impulse to slide down to the ground, to curl amongst the shallow roots, and hope that everything - Jenner, the world, himself - just went away.

"I thought you were made of stronger stuff, boy." The tones were so soft, so gentle...so close. Kyn's breath shivered in his lungs as he instinctively shoved his back against the solid bole behind him, almost trying to press himself _into_ it as he stared at the man's approaching figure, refusing to meet those terrible eyes, that unnaturally smooth visage. "I thought I had taught you better."

_You had taught me everything wrong..._ came the instinctive, petulant thought, even as Kyn straightened infinitesimally, head bowing in a reflex ingrained by years of training.

"Better," Jenner said grudgingly, one finger - whole and healthy - rising into Kyn's vision as if to tip his chin up. Befor he could do more than flinch, however, the man dropped the hand again, gliding back, his manner distracted, face turned away. "But we shall save comments upon your behavior for another time. First, there is the matter of Sen's upcoming performance."

There was hatred and there was glee in those patrician tones, unsoftened and unmarred by the burr of scar tissue. Kyn was only able to find enough wits while that too-sharp regard was turned to glance up...glance about...and realize with a start at the insubstantiality of the garden. Not to say that the willow felt any less prickly at his back, or that the colors were any less vibrant...but in the same way where he was aware of his physical body even as he seemed to inhabit another world entirely, he could feel the detachedness of his hold upon his own body and the garden's realm. As if something had come between them.

Someone else.

The first shadings of alarm began when his hand twitched without his prompting. He could feel the scrape of rough stone beneath his nails as the fingers curled and clenched. Stone? When had he moved enough to touch stone? Panic filled his lungs, and he instinctively fought to reach out, to bid his body move only as _he_ wished it...

"Think quietly, boy," Jenner remonstrated.

_Think quietly...!_ The incipient laughter was choked back by the firm grip of a hand over his mouth, Master's voice a sudden, sibilant hiss in his ear, "Fool boy! Have you already lost a lifetime's worth of discipline and training? When there are lines upon the ground, when there is no answer, what do you do?"

_Be still. Be quiet._ No thought preceded the loosening of tense muscles, the shift of weight to accomodate a more patient stance. Kyn simply _reacted_ to the achingly familiar question, and was rewarded by the slow removal of Jenner's hand from his jaw.

"Good," Master's voice whispered in grudging approval, the same hand resting upon his head as it oft had when he was young - not to comfort, but to command attention. "Listen well. My time here is limited, as is my influence, but it will be enough to interfere with Aisner's work. Since you have allowed the girl to survive till now, it is now your duty to see that she does not give him the sacrifice he needs to ensnare Belahb again."

Kyn could not seem to bring his gaze any closer to Jenner than a vague point over the man's left shoulder. As terrible as Master's visage had been in his ravaged body, it seemed even more unnatural to see the embodiment of a painting, an almost mythical figure, instructing him now using all too familiar registers. "I don't understand..." The words escaped without thought, a mere whisper of breath that was detected nevertheless, inciting an impatient sound accompanied by a sharp shake of his head as if he might be roused to greater awareness with the simple gesture.

"It does not matter whether you understand or not, simply that you carry out my instructions to the - "

The forcible shake may not have jogged anything useful, but the words unearthed something bitter inside him. "No!" he interrupted, almost breathless with his temerity, but he was _just _able to fool himself into thinking this wasn't truly Master, with such a perfect physical guise, and that perhaps all the rules did not apply. "No, I _have_ to understand! It is because - " The hand reached for his mouth again, and without thinking, he deflected it, turned his grip, and captured the palm in a hold that could mercilessly pinch the nerves between the delicate wrist bones with a single, thoughtless twist.

Finally, he met those cold-fire eyes, wide with affront - wide with astonishment. His must have been just as wide...but as the world paused, he did not loosen his grip, and Master remained caught. "You think you do not need me anymore?" the man finally uttered, each syllable like a stone hurled to wound and injure.

_How could he ever _not _need him?_ Even when Kyn had not heard so much as a word from Master, all his thoughts, all his actions, revolved around this man's desires! "I acted in error before," he husked, surprised to find that the tremble in his voice came from resentment rather than dread, "but only because I lacked information. So, as you have taught me, I would not make the same error again."

Jenner blinked, the ire ebbing, to be replaced with that icy hunger again before he slowly smiled, a raw chuckle dragged reluctantly from his chest. "Very good, Kyn, very good. Very well, you have earned yourself an explanation. But listen closely! There is still a little while yet before the critical moment will be upon us, but there is still much that has to be done, and I will not repeat myself."

The man gave an impatient shake of his hand, and Kyn finally released him, rubbing his own hand as if it alone had betrayed him in its stubborn capture of his former caretaker. Grateful for the steadying presence of the wood at his back, he barely had time to comprehend his unexpected success before the words were coming once again.

"Belahb was summoned to destroy the Mrr'Thaine line. It was tricked, bound, and since then, has remained in service to Aisner. But Sen had always been impatient...sloppy. Not enough to get himself killed - yet, more's the pity - but just enough that when he summoned Belahb, his hold over it was incomplete. In the time between then and now, he had strangled Belahb's source, starved it into submission, perpetually threatening it with the danger of extinction to keep it compliant. He was greedy enough to summon the entity with a lifetime contract, wanting its power forever at his beck and call, but was not thorough enough to curb all its possible actions, to keep himself and what he valued from harm.

"Tonight, he seeks to renew the contract, and to fill in those missing terms which will allow him enough peace to sleep through a night without checking and rechecking his bindings. Tonight, he seeks to make a sacrifice worthy enough to give him the power to wrest that last bit of control..."

Ask, and you shall receive. Kyn could only blindly listen, and hope that he would remember...remember, and have the chance to mull over it all in more detail later, if he survived this evening's events. It was more information than he could process, and yet, it all betrayed nothing of what he truly wanted to know, of what had happened on that night fifteen years ago which led to him as he was now. He wanted to shout over the flood of words, to ask for the _real_ answers, even as he hesitated to interrupt for fear that the man would never start again. Yet, sly impulse, which he seemed unable to shake off in his harried state, prompted him to blurt, "A worthy sacrifice? Of Minnefei? But he disdains his daughter! How could that sacrifice weigh enough to bind a demon?"

Irritation glared at him for a moment before Jenner turned a more considering look upon him. "Does he, now? Are you so sure of that, boy?" he asked, in that testing tone which was only used when he asked a question to which he already knew the answer.

Kyn held his breath uncertainly, frantically ransacked his memory for all the evidence, wondering what it was he had missed...he could _not_ have misinterpreted the chill that lay between the two. Minnefei herself, for all her arrogance and inward-turned regard, had sensed the wrongness and conspired to have herself sent away to the capitol...

Something fluttered in a remote corner of his mind, a corner which he had been forced to ignore for weeks due to a misbehaving Gift. It tried to prompt him now, and he reflexively winced away...and then paused. He had Seen her death before, in two places, two times. One had already been navigated without coming to pass, due to his interference. But the other one?

"He had been crying," Kyn husked in confusion. "He had slit her wrists to collect the blood, but there were tears upon his face. Why? If he does value her, somehow, why does he do it?"

Jenner snorted, the sound full of derision for the perceived thoughtlesness of the question. "Of course she must have value to him, if she is to be made a sacrifice! Otherwise, it is no sacrifice upon his part at all, is it?"

Sacrifices. Bindings. Everything whirled confusedly in his aching head, and he nearly sobbed in frustration...he already had nearly all the pieces, he could _sense_ it ! But how did they fit! "Why does he need a sacrifice at all? He already has Belahb under his control. Why not force it into complying with new terms?"

"It is not so easy as that, with the arts," the man murmured darkly, his attention straying for a moment before returning, graver than ever. "Such contracts are only binding with willing participants. Belahb had to be tricked into entering the first, and true to its nature, would rather wait through a man's lifetime perpetually shackled by wards just for the slim chance of revenge, rather than gain only an illusory freedom in exchange for its complete slavery. Yet even intent and will is subject to a certain amount of interpretation - remember, Kyn, that in such things, _everything_ lies in interpretations. In this case, considering the timing and the degree of his sacrifice - not just his only progeny, but an entire keep's worth of people - I surmise Aisner wishes to call something of a higher plane than Belahb, either to use it to command the entity into submission through their own heirarchical strictures, or perhaps to banish it altogether and to chain the newly summoned in its place..."

Kyn's mind stuttered, and he gaped at the man. _Wait..._ "...an entire keep's worth of people...?"

Realization of what Jenner had been hinting at must have stolen across his face, for other than a brief flash of annoyance, the man's face had smoothed into imperturbability rather than begin a harangue on his woeful lack of critical analysis, simply waiting for him to come to his own conclusions.

_Kyn, the way is barred! We cannot get in!_

_Kyn, we cannot leave the keep! The great doors have been locked somehow!_

The duke was planning on following the payment of his daughter's life with the lives of over a hundred others? Kyn's heart quailed to ponder what might be summoned with such a balance.

"Time is short," Jenner said with a gentleness that might have been concern in anyone else, but which was betrayed by his mad smile as being only the serenity of anticipation. "You need to steal the girl away. Aisner must _not_ be allowed to take her life tonight...and while a handful of other lives here and there will make little difference, he must not be allowed to succeed in taking _all_ other lives within this keep either." A moment's hesitation as he seems to consider a finer point, and then he adds, "Yet even if you prevent those two events, you have simply maintained the status quo."

"But how can I break the drugs' - "

"I will command it."

Kyn swallowed, and remembered that rough scrape of stone across his fingertips, though he had not consciously moved them. _This is what I have been reduced to - not even a pawn anymore, but simply a marionette..._ "Those herbs," he said hollowly. "What you had given me for as long as I can remember."

A slight dip of the head in acknowledgment. "Close enough to what Aisner used, which allowed him to command you as he just did. Close enough to ease you into a state where I, with a much deeper hold, can slip in past his control."

Kyn shuddered, felt a weakness from more than just sick realization leech at his joints, as so many threads of lives and intentions colliding birthed a choking tangle of visions struggling to be realized. "What..." he gasped, covering his face with his hands, fingers digging into his scalp as he struggled to reorder all his hodgepodge wits. _As futile as herding clouds with one's own breath._ "What are you _really_ trying to do? It is not to save Minnefei's life, or the lives of the others, or just to prevent Aisner's complete chaining of Belahb..."

"I want his _suffering_."

Kyn shakily lowered his hands, stared at this ghost of a man who should have died long ago, a shade that was flushed with more color than his own cheeks - chill from dread and uncertainty - could possibly hold. Jenner's hatred suffused him with unnatural life and intensity, so at odds with the half-dead husk he had been through all of Kyn's memory. "How?" he asked again, little more than a mouthing of the word, unable to get anything else past a dry throat and numb lips.

"You will kill him." Before Kyn could more than blink at this seeming contradiction - for was not death a release from suffering? - the man continued with venom lacing each syllable, "When the time comes, I want you to kill him - not before, not after. _He_ will become the sacrifice..._my _sacrifice to Belahb. It will return to its own realm, and gladly take Sen with it."

Kyn shook his head slowly in mute confusion. "I do not understand...the duke means less than nothing to you. How could he become a sacrifice...?"

"If you are fool enough to delve further into the arts, boy, you will learn that the traditional sacrifice only serves two purposes - as a means of gaining attention, and as a catalyst. Aisner's death will be simply a beacon to draw the appropriate attentions, while the completion of my promises will do the rest.

"All those years ago, Belahb was drawn by the taste of whatever Aisner first offered as sacrifice, but its bindings were not complete until it accepted the further payments of his adopted family. Belahb might have been under Aisner's control altogether instead of merely shackled, if I had not offered it a sacrifice in turn that night..."

It took only a moment's expectant pause, before Kyn finished in a hoarse whisper, "Yourself."

A hand rose, drew down the smooth, unblemished seeming of his right cheek. "Not just myself. Its instructions had been to slay us all, and it could no more ignore the order than to break free from Sen's hold on its own. I offered myself in order to begin the bargain - and then I offered the rest of the Mrr'Thaines to seal it."

Kyn stared, and wondered how he could still be standing. It seemed as if he did not even have the strength to draw another breath to sustain himself, as his mind sifted mercilessly through the meanings.

Jenner smiled, a skull's mirthless baring of teeth. "I could have fought it, and perished, along with all the others and leave Aisner unopposed. There was no use in such an action beyond futile heroics; with no preparation, no warning, our deaths were a foregone conclusion. But Aisner was the last variable. He _had_ to pay for the murders! And so I caught Belahb's attention by offering myself, and then offered that which was the most dear to me for that chance - I offered the lives of my blood family _uncontested_.

"Belahb had realized the trap by then. It was furious, and clutched readily at any hints of escape it could find, whether now or later - and how much better if it was able to take the one responsible with it to toy with? So it agreed, and took just enough of me to allow me the time to plot, while insuring that it would eventually fulfill Aisner's edict..."

Kyn was certain that if he had not been numb enough to wonder whether he was still clutching the tree behind him, that he would have been violently ill. _You gave your family - _our _family - to the fires. You will eventually die from what it had claimed, and so passes another Mrr'Thaine. But...there is still one unaccounted for... _"What about me?" Kyn could barely recognize his own voice. "What did you promise it in return for me?"

One, single corner of the man's mouth curled upwards, and with the fall of the shadows just so across the other half of his face...Kyn had to brush a hand over his eyes, to banish the insistent illusion of the scarred Master. It had become just as frightening to be in his presence as to be away from it, for with every breath, every blink, he was being reminded that this man was a stranger.

Kyn had lived with a stranger all his life, and never known it.

"There are no promises for you, boy. You should have no fear on at least that count - your sacrifice is done with. There is nothing else that you owe Belahb."

"I don't understand..." he whispered, helplessly. He was terrified of the answer, and yet his entire being yearned for an explanation. Perhaps, if there had been time enough, he could have vacillated forever, unable to decide...but, for once, it was with a certain relief that the decision was taken out of his hands, like so many other things in his life.

"Consider," Jenner began in a painfully familiar pedantic tone, clasping his hands behind him, "your first memory is of the manse - and nothing before. It was no trauma that blocked them from you - there are no nightmares, no phobias, much less an unreasonable fear of fire, which is Belahb's domain." There was a short pause as he stared expectantly at Kyn, but when no response was forthcoming beyond a small shake of the head in denial, Jenner continued in deceptively quiet tones - soft and implacable. "You _were_ sacrificed, Kynfaellar. Belahb reached into your mind and consumed your memories, the boy that you were, the boy and man that you could have been. That night, Kynfaellar Mrr'Thaineson and all his potential died - leaving only you behind."

_A shell,_ his mind offered up, eventually, into the chill silence of his heart. _Master may have been ruined, left with only half a body, half a life - but I was left with not even that much. Just a vessel... _"To be shaped by you." The words came out in a low hiss, surprising Kyn more than Jenner, the thought skipping his conscious mind altogether as it escaped through his mouth.

The man inclined his head slightly in acceptance of the accusation. "To be shaped by me," he echoed implacably.

In that moment, Kyn felt the most terrifying clash of desires - a revulsion so strong that it made him gag, even as his heart longed so much to return into this man's influence that his eyes stung and his vision wavered. Remorseless and unyielding, the man had defined all boundaries and limits around himself to the sharpness of a blade and then worked steadily to shatter each one. Jenner's ruthlessness both attracted and repulsed him; Kyn longed for the strength to support him once more even as he feared what would happen to him if he ever set himself directly against it. "Why did you not try to bring him back?" he asked, a child's question, full of hurt and incomprehension. "Why did you ask me to call you 'Master' and told me nothing of what had passed?"

The green eyes narrowed, darker and deeper than any sky reflected in black waters. "I needed your unthinking, unquestioning, complete and mindless obedience. Do you think I would have received it if you were to call me 'Dear Uncle Jenner'?"

"Then you failed!" he cried, unable to stand the scathing condescension, as if _he_ had been the one to do wrong. _But I haven't! I know enough now that I know I haven't!_ "I'm not exactly as mindless as you wanted me to be, not anymore!"

Jenner sighed, shaking his head with a grimace of disgust, and a flare of anger born from frustration crossed his cold countenance, warming it to something almost human. "Have you learned nothing under my tutelage?" the man snapped. "I never wanted a mindless automaton. If I did, I would have done well enough pulling any scapegrace vagrant off the street. I wanted your obedience so that I would have the greatest freedom in shaping you as I possibly could. I could not afford to have you or any of your potential lost to some vagary of chance or adolescent upset."

"My potential?" Kyn mocked. "What potential would that be? I do not see how a vagrant would have been any different...in fact, would it not have been better all around? You wasted no time in pulling Stefahn into your fold."

Jenner made an impatient sound, closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose in a gesture that Kyn could not help noticing bitterly that he had frequently mirrored. He had patterned himself after this man, all but worshipped him, had _believed_ in - no, had been _made _to believe in him...

"Stefahn was a mistake. But you should never have let that concern you."

Shock collided with incredulity as Kyn stared at the man he had called 'Master' for as long as he could remember. _"How could I not?" _For all his amazement that the man actually admitted to an error, his surprise was subsumed completely by the hurt that followed. "I had not had contact or any communication with you for weeks! As far as I was shown, _you_ had cut our contact off! And then Stefahn was trotted before my nose, smug and secure in the role that _I_ used to play while you would have nothing to do with me..."

"Control yourself, boy! Have I wasted all my time on you for nothing? Think! Stefahn was merely a temporary hire. If your gardener takes sick, the garden must still be tended, in which case someone else must be found. _You_ were not performing your tasks, and so someone else had to do them.

"But, in the end, he was _only_ a temporary hire. He was convenient for his relations with Mennifei, but he overstepped his bounds in his interaction with you. I freely admit to my misjudgment in that particular case, and I have taken steps to correct that error."

Kyn flinched at the reproof, but all it did was to make him clasp his pain all the closer. "Then what necessitated the blocking of my Foresight!"

Master - no, _Jenner_ - clasped his hands behind him with a deliberate moment of stern silence. "_That_ was to make you curb yourself," he said in low, dangerous tones, true fury rather than simple irritation beginning to surface. "Have I not taught you the dangers of trusting your Sight too easily, to depend on it too much? You know you made several mistaken assumptions based upon them. The place and time for Mennifei's death, for example."

It would be reckless to continue the argument. It would be reckless to accuse Master directly. And yet, had he not been opposed to the man thus far, and still remained standing? And a new, traitorous thought snaked its way through his head..._Master _needs _me. He cannot get his revenge alone. The worst he can do is to simply not answer..._ And so, reckless though it was, he let his heart carry his last suspicion free of his lips. _"Don't chastise me for trusting my Sight when you made me what I am according to your own Seeings."_

Silence, as honest surprise flitted across the man's face, and Kyn watched that strange-familiar countenance with a hawk's attention, waiting for a confirmation that he felt he already _knew_ in his very bones.

"So. You believe yourself clever, now." Jenner's expression flickered, his weight shifted, and then... "Touche."

Kyn stared, as his Master bowed low to him.


	29. The Words Between: part 22

Holy cow! It's a new chapter! Well, proto-chapter...it's not as long as the others, and really, I had originally intended it as another section appended to the last chapter, but what the hell, this thing's already been kicking around so long now that sensibilities really have no place in the course of things anymore.

The Words Between - part 22

_:CHOSEN!:_

Kyn jerked back, and the willow's trunk proved as solid in his imaginings as the real world, his vision momentarily filling with stars when the back of his head cracked solidly against the aged wood...no, not just stars. Sianni reared between him and his master, forehooves glinting sun-bright in the leaf-filtered light. She had not the sheer, terrifying bulk that the drafts bred for war claimed, but her shadow loomed dark enough that even Kyn blinked beneath an upraised arm, though his heart knew he should fear no danger from her.

Jenner, expression tight with surprise, spoke with clipped haste. "Hold, White Lady! I lay no claim to your Chosen!"

Hooves whipped out - one, two - grazing the man's temple and cheek before Sianni bore down. Jenner's eyes closed with the twin brushes of polished horn, his shoulders drawn back with tension...but otherwise unflinching, even when the Companion snorted, her breath hot against his breast. He opened his eyes, body rigidly still, gazing boldly back when he found her standing watchful a hand's width away, neck arched in clear aggression.

_:At least you are someone with fortitude,:_ Sianni's voice echoed softly through their joined minds, and Kyn shivered in surprise at the coldness that layered her mental touch into icy sheets. He had never heard her sound like this - even in her conflicts with the un-Herald. Even toward himself at his most stubborn.

The man smiled thinly. "No one else could have made your Chosen what he is."

The fan of crystalline-white lashes lowered, hooding bright sapphire orbs until they were the midnight of a starless night. _:Or perhaps I mistook arrogance for courage. I have yet to thank you 'properly' for what you have done to my Chosen.:_

"Confidence...and desperation," Jenner corrected, smile disappearing as he addressed the Companion as soberly as he would a peer. "There is just as much danger to not recognizing all of one's strength as to being blind to one's weakness. And as for thanking me...I am afraid there is something else that has a prior claim to yours. If you plan on waiting for your turn, it will be a very long wait indeed." He straightened, lifting his chin. "I have nothing to fear from you, White Lady, but neither do I have the time or attention for another enemy. Simply step aside for this last candlemark.."

_:Step aside...?!:_ Sianni's eyes and nostrils flared wide, something uncannily like a growl accompanying the outraged toss of her head. _:You tell me to _step aside _from my Chosen?! I would step upon _you_ and trample that black sore you call a heart - _

"And leave said Chosen helpless upon the chamber's floor, waiting for the sacrificial knife?" Jenner snarled, what little caution he had wearing even thinner. "Do not forget that your bond cannot transcend his body's limitations. You may have uncontested ties to his spirit, but I alone can ensure that there is still a vessel to contain it by the end of this!"

"And am I to find a seat to watch the show from?" Kyn blurted, his frustration finally surmounting his uncertainty, earning himself two startled looks - one vaguely guilty, the other vaguely irritated. With the first words thrown down like a glove in challenge though, it was surprisingly easy to let the rest burst out, though they were flat from the effort of keeping his voice steady. "Perhaps neither of you truly needs my good opinion, but I assure you, I can still make enough of a difference to utterly confound _all_ your plans if you do not obtain it."

"So sure are you of that?" Master was the first to retort, confident in his years of dominance, while Sianni hesitated in reflexive deference to Kyn's emotional turmoil. "All I need is to prevent Aisner's sacrifice to also prevent the renewal of the contract. You, he would _delight_ in dispatching, so your death would not trigger the compact. True, you could potentially delay me...but not enough to prevent Minnefei's rescue. It would only ensure your own demise."

"No, you need me alive."

The man's gaze narrowed upon his erstwhile student. "You are allowing your hopes to cloud your logic, boy," he began to sneer.

"No," Kyn repeated with a glint of knowing, something teasing at the edges of his mind - not from the Sight that he had truthfully relied on too much, but from his own intuitions, reading the words between the words and the lines between the lines, an intuition that he had left sorely neglected in the well-structured world of his Master. "No, you have another purpose for me. Else, as you had said, any other 'gardener' could have done just as well, and with less trouble to you! You need me specifically for something - and that purpose calls for me alive."

_:What is that purpose, Jenner?:_ Sianni finally interjected, her temper cooled enough during her involuntary pause to remember that it was the man's motivations and not his apology that was the most important at the moment.

Jenner did not acknowledge Sianni's question, gaze fixed unblinkingly upon his protege, as emotionless and inscrutible as if he contemplated a mouse pinned beneath a cat's paw, wondering if he should walk on or waste the effort to silence its squeaks.

Kyn matched that gaze, not knowing if he was absolutely correct, but also knowing that to show otherwise was no longer an option. Regardless of whether he was right or wrong, if he did not stand firm now upon his own reasoning, then he may as well be nothing more than a hapless servant, eternally searching for reassurance and direction. _If I am to be misled by foibles or errors, they may as well be my own rather than another's! _

Jenner smiled, sharp and fierce. _Bravo,_ Kyn read in that expression. And with a casual shrug, as if he had been merely caught filching cooling sweet buns off a windowsill, Jenner said, "The pact needs to be turned back upon Aisner. And after Aisner has been dispatched, you will become Duke of Lynxfinn."

It had been stated with such mildness and aplomb that the implications nearly escaped him. Kyn did not even know if the suggestion was enough to warrant a laugh of disbelief. He tried to wrap his mind around the concept of Master playing a practical joke, and upon failing utterly in the attempt, finally croaked, "What?"

Jenner leveled a narrowed, thoughtful gaze upon Kyn. "No matter what the circumstances, blood is blood, and there is nothing that can manufacture the ties that it creates. There is a reason why bloodcraft is one of the most powerful and dangerous of the magical arts. You_ are_Vinsen's son, no matter the memories that you hold - or do not hold - and as such, _you_ are the one who should be duke. Even your competence should not be questioned - I made sure of that when I raised you."

Kyn shook his head dazedly, barely noticing that he did so. "No..." he husked, biting off the syllables as if they tasted as sour as the idea felt. "No! _You_ orchestrated all this, _you_ are the one who wants all this to happen, _you_ be the duke!"

Jenner's face darkened as he turned to face Kyn directly. "_I_ cannot be duke - "

_:Why not?:_ Sianni jumped in, her head turning to eye the man keenly, not bothering to conceal her satisfaction with a solution that would pull her Chosen from the center of his schemes. _:As you said yourself, blood is blood, and nothing can erase that fact. You are Duke Vinsendail Mrr'Thaine's brother. If Kyn had not been born, you would have been next in the line of inheritance. Kyn can renounce his title and you would be able to take it in his place.:_

Jenner laughed. It was the first time Kyn had ever heard such a thing from the man's lips, and he could barely comprehend the tortured sound of it. "Have you forgotten my bargain with the demon? If all goes well, there will not _be_ a brother left! We took Aisner in," he continued more softly, a poisonous glee coating his words at the tantalizing thought of vengeance, "treated him as a brother of our own blood. Shared our bread and roof with him, and comforted and defended him in his trials. In repayment, he tried to steal everything we had given him freely, including our lives...I would make every pact possible with every monster known to ensure repayment is exacted from his hide and soul in triplicate! Tell me that is the duke you wish seated upon the land's eastern border!"

Kyn stared, rapt by the performance. Had he ever felt something so deeply before? Had he ever wanted, _needed_ anything, on such a basic level? Had there ever been anything that he felt worth sacrificing twelve years of his life and then his soul for?

He thought he had felt that way about Master once. But faced with Jenner's need...maybe he was wrong.

Pellucid blue eyes flattened with uncompromising judgment. _:Errors should not be compounded. Assignage of blame and punishment is not your duty; leave Aisner to the guard, and take what comfort you can in being returned to your rightful place - :_

"So that you may remind me of your 'altruism' and 'clemency' whenever I so much as sneeze when you do not want me to?" Jenner laughed, shaken from his mad musings. "I think not! And Kyn is the last scion of our line. Are you going to put someone else in his place? The girl, perhaps," Jenner suggested with vicious sarcasm. "The daughter of a usurper?"

_:Kyn has been Chosen. He cannot inherit the estate by law - :_

"The queen would end a long and illustrious bloodline upon the whim of a talking horse? She will have the noble houses rebelling against her if she denies a surviving inheritor of sound mind and body his blood rights and his lands default to the crown...!"

_:All before have abided by that law without protest - !:_

"Laws have been changed before and so have monarchs upon the throne - no circumstances have ever placed the existence of a house at risk like this...! "

_:Are you threatening the queen? You could be arrested and properties siezed for treason - :_

"- and you think that will help your cause?! "

"Tell me what I have to do."

Lost momentarily in a glaring match, the two combatants turned as one to blink at him as if startled that he was still present. With grim patience, Kyn repeated himself. "Tell me what I have to do."

_:Kyn...:_ Sianni warned, ears backswept. _:This is completely unnecessary. The laws stand opposed to his desires. There is nothing that can force you to do this if you do not want to...:_

_If _he did not want to. That was the real question, wasn't it?

"Boy, you are a duke, and let no one tell you otherwise. The noble houses will not stand for a sole living heir to be stolen by such frivolous reasons, the crown fattened by his rightful inheritance - otherwise, any of their names and estates would be just as vulnerable to extinction!"

There was a distinct clack of teeth as Sianni gave the man a warning nip near his elbow, to which Jenner flinched with a dark glare, looking fit to bite back - quite literally.

"I want to," Kyn assured her, and as he turned from her accusing gaze to meet Jenner's eyes, he could tell that Master knew he was lying too.

But as tumultuous as things had become, there was still a future for him to worry about...while for Jenner, there was nothing left. For this man, who had bargained his soul with a demon for a single gift - time - Kyn wanted to grant this final peace. This would be his decision, made for his own purposes - not for the arguments or orders of any else.

Sianni sensed his resolution, and bowed her head in sorrow and resignation.

Jenner understood, and lowered his instead in obeisance.


End file.
